THE    SERMONS 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 

IN 

Ply^nouth  CJmrch,  Brotklyn. 

FROM  VERBATIM  REPORTS  BY  T.  J.  ELLINWOOD 

"PLYMOUTH     PULPIT," 

SECOND   SERIES: 

•     MARCH  —  SEPTEMBER,    1S69. 


NEW    YORK : 

J.  B.  FORD  &   COMPANY,  39   PARK  ROW. 

1870. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

J.     B.     FORD     &     CO., 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


University   Press  :  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


PREFACE. 


This  volume  contains  half  of  the  sermons  preached  in  Ply- 
mouth Church  for  the  past  six  months.  The  subjects  are  va- 
rious ;  designed  to  awaken  moral  feeling,  to  develop  it  into 
habits  and  principles,  and  to  cheer  and  encourage  Christians 
in  the  trials  of  a  spiritual  life.  It  may  be  noticed  that  there 
runs  through  the  six  months'  preaching  an  open  or  tacit  dealing 
with  that  uncertain  and  doubting  state  of  mind  which  belongs 
so  largely  to  our  day.  This  is  but  giving  to  each  need  its  por- 
tion in  due  season.  The  present  attitude  of  the  scientific  mind 
of  the  world  is  not  favorable  to  the  Christian  Church,  nor  to 
revealed  religion,  and  there  are  many  physicists  who  do  not  stop 
even  there.  The  denial  of  the  existence  of  God,  either  overtly 
or  covertly,  and  of  the  soul's  spirituality  and  immortality,  is  no 
longer  occasional  or  rare.  Although  I  have  not  formally  dis- 
cussed the  evidences  of  religion,  I  have  endeavored  to  fortify 
Christian  faith  and  courage  in  regard  to  those  great  elements  on 
which  we  have  built  our  lives  and  all  our  hopes. 

HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  September,  1869. 


CONTENTS. 


•  Pagb 

I.    The  Way  of  Coming  to  Christ  (Matt.  xi.  25  -  30)  .        .        .        1 
Lesson  :  John  xv. 

II.    CoxDucT,  THE  Index  of  Feeling  (John  xv.  10  -  16)      .        .  21 

Lesson  :  John  xv.    Hymns  * :  Nos.  243,  424,  233. 

III.  The  Sympathy  OF  Christ  (Heb.  iv.  14-1 G)      ....      39 

Lesson  :  Heb.  ii.     Hymns  :  Nos.  217,  248,  255. 

IV.  Eetribution  and  Reformation  (Part  of  Gen.  xxxii.)    .        .  59 

Lesson  :  Psahn  xxxii.    Hymns  :  Nos.  199,  732,  1353. 

V.    Counting  the  Cost  (Luke  xiv.  28) ■ .      75 

Lesson  :  1  Thess.  v.  1-24.    Hymns  :  Nos.  364,  600,  566. 
/YI.    Scope  and  Function  of  a  Christian  Life  (Eph.  vi.  11-18)  91 

Lesson  :  Matt.  v.  1-16.    Hymns  :  Nos.  102,  705,  633. 

.  VII.    Human  Ideas  of  God  (Matt.-&6) 109 

Lesson  :  Psalm  xxv.    Hymns  :   Nos.  23,  688,  551. 

VIII.    The  Graciousness  of  Christ  (Heb.  ii.  11)    .        .        .        .         125 
Lesson  :  Heb.  xii.  18  -  29.    Hymns  :  Nos.  681,  922. 

IX.    Evils  of  Anxious  Forethought  (Matt.  vi.  27)  .         .         .     139 

Lesson  :  Matt.  vi.  19  -  34.    Hymns  :  Nos.  397,  784. 

X.    The  Beauty  of  Moral  Qualities  (Matt.  v.  16)    .        .        .         155 

Lesson  :  Matt.  v.  13-26.    Hymns  :  Nos.  816,  766, 1181. 
XI.    The  Problem  of  Joy  and   Suffering   in  Life  (Prov.  iii.  3; 

John  xvi.  33)  .         .         . 175 

Lesson  :  Prov.  iv.  1-18,    Hymns  :  Nos.  513,  437,  "  Shining  Shore." 
XII.    The  Apostolic  Theory  of  Preaching  (Phil.  i.  15  -  18)     .        ,     195 

XIII.  The  Right  and  the  Wrong  Way  of  Giving  Pleasure  (Rom. 

XV.  2) 215 

Lesson  :  Psalm  Ixviii.  1  -  20.     Hymns  :  Nos.  216,  273,  638. 

XIV.  The  Perfect  Manhood  (Eph.  iv.  13) 235 

Lesson  :  Prov.  i.    West  Point,  June  13. 

XV,    Dissimulating  Love  (Rom.  xii.  9) 253 

Lesson  :  1  Cor.  xii.  28-31;  xiii.  1-13.    Hymns  :  Nos.  40,  510,  768. 
XVL    The  Door  (John  x.  9) 269 

XVII.    Moral  Theory  of  Civil  Liberty  (2  Pet.  ii.  19)        .        .        .     285 
Lesson  :  2  Pet.  ii.    Hymns  :  Nos.  1040, 1032,  1004. 

*  Plymouth  Collection. 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


XVIII.    Peaceableness  (Rom.  xii.  IS)        .        .      •  .        .        .        .         305 
Lesson  :  Rom.  xii.     Hymns  :  Nos.  24,  577, 1238. 

XIX.    Soul-Drifting  (Heb.  vi.  19) 323 

Lesson  :  Heb.  vi.    Hymns  :  Nos.  668,  531,  868. 

XX.    The  Hidden  Life  (Col.  iii.  3) 345 

Lesson  :  2  Cor.  iv.  18  ;  v.    Hymns  :  Nos.  132,  910,  906. 
XXI.    Discouragements  and  Comforts  in  Christian  Life   (Heb.  x. 

35-37) 367 

Lesson  :  Eph.  i.    Hymns  :  Nos.  180,  619. 
XXII.    Hindrances  on  the  Threshom)  (John  v.  6)       .        .        .         .     385 
Lesson  ;  Joha  v.  1-16.    Hymns  :  Nos.  1278,  898,  755» 

XXIII.  TuE  Supreme  Allegiance  (Matt.  x.  37,  38  ;  Luke  xiv.  25,  26)       401 

Lesson  :  1  Peter  iv.  7  - 16.    Hymns  :  Nos.  142,  270,  719. 

XXIV.  Authority  of  Right  over  Wrong  (Matt.  viii.  29)    .         .         .421 

XXV.    The  Power  of  Love  (Eph.  vi.  24) 439 

Lesson  :  Eph.  vi.    Hymns  :  Nos.  364,  1235. 
O  XXVI.    The  Preciousness  of  Christ  (1  Peter  ii.  7)       .         .         .        .     453 
Lesson  :  1  Peter  iii.  8-22.     Hymns  :  Nos.  199,  597,  657. 


1. 


The  Way  of  Coming  to  Ciirist:, 


THE  WAY  OF  COimG  TO  CHRIST. 

SUNDAY  MORNING,  MARCH  14,   1869. 


INVOCATION.      . 

Tnou  hast  opened  tlie  day,  and  given  the  sun  to  go  forth  and  shed  light,  and  hope, 
and  cheer,  and  gladness.  Art  not  thou  brighter  and  warmer,  0  Sun  of  Righteousness  ? 
May  we  not  come  forth  into  thy  light  from  our  darkness  ?  May  we  not,  this  morn- 
ing, stand  up  effulgent  as  the  children  of  light,  rejoicing  in  our  God  ?  Are  we  not 
beloved  of  thee  ?  Why  should  the  children  of  the  King  be  in  such  poverty,  and  in 
such  sorrow,  and  as  exiles  ?  Wilt  thou  not  to-day  clothe  us  with  thine  own  royal- 
ty ?  Give  us  this  morning  a  taste  of  the  blessedness  of  the  heavenly  estate,  and  lift 
up  our  hearts  above  drudging  care,  and  inspire  us  with  higher  and  nobler  concep- 
tions of  love  and  duty.  And  grant  that  all  our  souls  may  go  forth  to-day  to  meet 
the  King.  And  may  we  rejoice  that  the  King  is  our  Father.  We  ask  it  for  Christ's 
sake.    Amen. 


"  At  that  time  Jesus  answered  and  said,  I  thank  thee,  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth,  because  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and 
hast  revealed  them  imto  babes.  Even  so.  Father :  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy 
sight.  All  things  are  delivered  unto  me  of  my  Father :  and  no  man  knoweth  the 
Son,  but  the  Father  ;  neither  knoweth  any  man  the  Father,  save  the  Son,  and  he 
to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal  him.  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me ; 
for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls.  For 
my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light." — Matt.  si.  35-30. 

Here  the  Saviour  assumed  his  judicial  character ;  and  in  the  con- 
text he  had  been  denouncing  the  cities  for  their  great  wickedness. 
Then  he  seems,  as  it  were  by  a  noble  absent-mindedness,  to  have  for- 
gotten the  human  part  that  he  was  enacting,  and  to  Jiave  risen  into 
the  consciousness  of  his  divine  nature.  There  is  not  a  man  that  ever 
lived  who  could  utter  respecting  himself  this  27th  verse — "  All  things 
are  delivered  unto  me  of  ray  Father :  and  no  man  knoweth  the  Son, 
but  the  Father ;  neither  knoweth  any  man  the  Father,  save  the  Son, 
and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal  himself" — no  man  among 
the  greatest  names  of  antiquity  could  ha.ve  repeated,  and  no  man  among 
the  greatest  names  of  modern  times  could  repeat,  such  words  as  these 
respecting  himself,  without  being  felt  to  be  a  suj)reme  egotist,  or  else 
a  hopeless  fanatic.  But  such  language  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  seems 
eminently  fit— just  as  fit  as  it  seems  for  a  king  to  Avear  a  crown. 


2  TEE    WAY  OF  CO  MING    TO    CERIST. 

Renan  and  others  depict  tlie  Saviour  as  a  gentle  enthusiast  in  his 
early  life,  but  growing  at  length,  by  force  of  circumstances,  to  be  a 
fanatic.  A  very  noble  fanatic  they  make  him  out  to  be ;  yet  a  fana- 
tic. But  words  have  lost  their  meaning  Avhen  Christ  is  called  a  fana- 
tic. He  was  never  so  rich  and  human  as  in  the  culminating  scenes  of 
hi&life ;  never  so  loving  ;  never  so  full  of  sympathy  for  others,  and 
of  sorrow  for  their  doom.  Witness  his  weeping  over  Jerusalem. 
Witness  the  miracles  of  healing  Avhich  he  performed  during  the  last 
scenes  of  his  life.  If  fanaticism  means  large-heartedness,  self-forget- 
fulness,  pity,  sympathy,  love  in  the  most  exquisite  tenderness,  the 
most  gentle  submission  to  the  inevitable,  the  grandest  patience  under 
trial,  simplicity  and  calmness  under  the  dissolving  pains  of  an  awful 
death,  then  blessed  be  enthusiasm.  But  such  a  sense  as  that  is  revo- 
lutionizing language — not  changing  the  verity  of  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh. 

If,  then,  to  use  the  words  that  I  have  quoted,  in  any  other  than 
one  who  is  divine  would  be  the  supremest  egotism,  what  sliall  we  say 
of  the  next  words,  "Come  unto  me,  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  la- 
den, and  I  will  give  you  rest "  ?  What  shall  we  say  of  that  imperial 
I?  After  such  words  as  these,  may  not  a  soul  that  is  seeking  its  God 
go  to  Jesus?  Need  any  man  fear  that  he  will  stumble  into  idolatry 
if  he  gives  all  that  the  heart  can  give  to  another  to  this  person  ?  Need 
one  be  afraid  of  going  to  Christ,  and  of  stojiping  there  ? 

If  there  be  a  truth  clearer  than  another,  it  is  that  men  can  not  at- 
tain to  safety  or  peace,  to  purity  or  strength,  of  themselves.  Except  by 
the  personal  influence  of  God's  nature  on  ours,  we  can  not  reach  our 
higher  manhood.     "  Without  me,"  God  says,  "  ye  can  do  nothing." 

It  is  equally  true  that  Jesus  Christ  is  just  that  presentation  of  the 
divine  nature  which  men  can  understand ;  which  is  adapted  to  their 
urgent  necessities;  which  they  can  sympathize  with;  and  which  thev 
can  seize  and  retain.  Christ  is  put  forth  as  the  supremest  chieftain  to 
man ;  and  men  are  gathered  about  him  as  clans  gather  round  their 
head.  They  are  to  be  fired  with  zeal  and  enthusiasm.  Just  as  men 
feel  for  their  generals,  for  their  heroes,  an  enthusiasm  wliich  makes 
hard  things  easy,  which  gives  to  the  soul-feelings  an  impetuous  cur- 
rent, a  zeal,  and  an  enthusiasm,  and  which  enlarges,  ennobles,  and  em- 
powers the  whole  being — so  men  are  to  be  attracted  and  inspired  by 
the  relation  which  they  sustain  to  its  God. 

The  New  Testament  puts  the  evidence  of  the  reality  of  Christ  in 
the  moral  consciousness  of  men.  We  are  to  come  to  Christ ;  we  are 
to  have  this  zeal  of  personal  adhesion  to  him ;  and  this — namely,  the 
experience  of  personal  love — will  be  the  evidence  of  his  existence,  of 
his  power,  and  of  the  reality  of  the  Christian  life.  And  it  will  be  an 
evidence  which  will  supersede  all  others.      This  is  the  moral  philoso- 


I'HE    WAY  OF  COMING    TO    GHRIST.  3 

phy  of  the  New  Testament.  Man  can  not  rise  to  his  true  manhood 
without  God.  Jesus  Christ  is  that  aspect  and  presentation  of  God 
which  is  adapted  to  man.  And  the  evidence  that  there  is  such  a  be- 
ing as  Jesus  Ohrist  is  to  be  found  not  speculatively,  but  by  a  person- 
al adhesion,  enthusiastic  and  intense,  to  hira.  And  this  will  work 
such  a  result  in  one  that  no  man  can  doubt  that  he  is  a  changed  man, 
and  that  there  is  a  power  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  that  changes  him. 
In-  other  words,  it  is  not  the  concatenation  of  intellectual  logic  that 
proves  the  divinity  of  Christ.  It  is  the  peculiar  logic  of  affection. 
It  is  moral  reasoning,  in  distinction  from  mere  intellectual  speculation. 
This  is  the  highest  proof  of  Christ's  divinity. 

The  subject  that  I  shall  farther  unfold,  then,  this  morning,  is,  Com- 
ing to  Christy  and  the  TFtxy  of  Coming. 

Go  back,  now,  to  our  text.  Pause  for  a  moment  on  one  inflection 
of  thought — "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  laboi-  and  are  heavy  laden, 
and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  " — that  is  the  mode 
of  coming — "and  learn  of  me."  In  brief,  Cliristian  character,  Chris- 
tian duties,  and  the  Christian  spirit  are  to  be  at  once  taken  up,  and  a 
l^ersonal  Christ  is  to  be  sought  Avhile  you  are  in  the  act  of  obeying 
the  commands  of  this  Christ.  If  you  would  find  Christ,  do  not  un- 
dertake to  find  him  first,  and  then  undertake  Christian  life  and  duty 
afterward.  Begin  Christian  life  and  duty  now,  and  find  him  in  the 
act  or  struggle  of  this  life.  Begin  at  once  to  cultivate  a  Christian 
feeling;  and  if  you  cannot  attain  to  it,  that  is  tlie  ground  and  reason 
of  appeal  for  help.  Christ  is  better  disclosed  in  the  effort  to  live 
Christianly  than  he  is  by  any  other  mode  of  approach,  or  by  any 
other  endeavor  to  find  him. 

The  more  plainly  to  perceive  this  line  of  thought,  let  me  mark 
and  criticise  the  various  methods  of  coming  to  Christ  by  which  men 
have  sought  to  find  him,  or  to  come  into  personal  relations  with  him. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  is  Christ  historically  sought.  Men  are 
taught  to  read  their  Bibles.  Then  they  are  eiijoined  to  think  upon 
the  things  which  they  read.  Then  they  wait  to  see  what  hajspens. 
We  throw  seed  into  the  ground,  and  do  nothing  more.  The  ground 
takes  care  of  it ;  and  by  and  by  it  begins  to  sprout.  Men  have  a 
vague  impression  that  the  Bible  is  just  of  that  kind,  and  that  you  are 
to  take  a  handful  of  its  truth,  and  throw  it  inward,  and  then  wait  to 
see  if  it  comes  up,  thinking  that  there  is  some  secret  and  hidden 
power  by  which  it  will  sprout  and  grow.  There  are  a  great  many 
persons  that  have  no  very  distinct  conception  of  Christ  but  this : 
that  there  are  some  fxvored  ones  who  may  come  into  personal  rela- 
tionships to  Christ,  and  that  when  they  have  come  into  such  relation- 
ships they  are  very  happy,  and  have  "  got  religion,"  as  the  expres- 
sion is.     And  they  go  to  their  Bible,  prefacing  the  act  with  a  short 


4  THE    WAY  OF  COMING    TO   CHRIST. 

gigh,  and  wish  that  they  might  become  Christians.  And  then  they 
read  one,  two,  three,  four  chapters,  and  wait  and  see  if  they  feel  any 
better.  They  do  not  know  as  they  do ;  and  so  they  go  back  at  even- 
ing and  read  some  more  Bible,  just  as  if  it  were  rnedicine  taken  ; 
and  they  watch  to  see  what  the  result  is  on  themselves.  There  is 
this  impression,  that  in  the  ISTew  Testament  there  is  a  power  given 
to  the  letter  such  that,  if  a  man  will  only  take  enough  of  it,  and  take 
it  long  enough,  it  will  by  and  by,  some  hoAV — they  do  not  know  how 
— work  out  in  them  a  power  of  conversion  Avhicli  will  bring  them  to 
a  state  in  which  they  shall  see  the  ineffable  Christ,  and  rejoice  in 
him. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  say  that  the  word  of  God  is  not  without  its 
power  and  influence  in  the  revelation  of  Christ.  If  the  letter  minis- 
ters to  you  the  power  of  rising  above  itself;  if  it  gives  you  under- 
standing and  food  on  which  you  can  work ;  and  if  you  have  the 
gift  of  imagination  by  which  you  can  construct,  out  of  the  material 
which  the  New  Testament  gives  you,  a  vivid  and  living  Saviour, 
then  the  New  Testament  helps  you.     Otherwise  it  does  not. 

We  are  to  love  Christ.  He  is  our  Lover.  We  are  to  fall  in  love 
with  him. 

It  is,  for  State  reasons,  convenient,  often,  that  princes  of  govern- 
ments should  marry  princesses  of  other  governments  without  the 
parties  meeting — or  it  used  to  be  so.  In  lieu  of  a  personal  inter- 
view, each  respectively  had  his  or  her  j^ortrait  painted,  and  sent 
it  to  the  other.  And  who  will  say  that  that  was  not  a  great  deal 
better  than  nothing  ?  If  I  were  the  j^rince,  and  my  Spanish  intended 
I  could  not  see,  and  I  yet  was  affianced  to  her,  I  would  thank 
the  painter  that  would  give  me  this  faint  semblance.  But,  after  all, 
this  effigy,  what  is  it  but  the  merest  film  of  color,  that  gives  me 
some  conception  of  how  she  looks,  or  how  she  wants  to  have  me 
think  she  looks  ?  It  is  a  help  to  me  ;  but  can  I  fall  in  love  with  that  ? 
With  my  imagination  stimulated  by  it,  1  might  form  some  fancy- 
figure,  and  give  to  ijb  some  artificial  character.  And  then  in  a  day- 
dream I  might  feel  the  pulse  of  love.  But,  after  all,  would  it  be 
any  thing  more  than  the  filmiest  of  feelings  ? 

By  and  by  the  parties  come  together;  and  then,  if  they  be  noble 
persons,  and  worthy  of  each  otlier,  oh  !  how  diiferent  is  the  intercourse 
of  thought  with  thought,  of  enthusiasm  with  enthusiasm,  of  aflection 
with  afiection,  from  that  of  the  simple  outward  rejiresentation  of  the 
persons  !  How  life  dispossesses  the  mere  shadow  of  life  !  And  when 
you  can  see  the  thing  itself,  how  quickly  you  turn  aAvay  from  the 
mere  representation  of  the  thing  ! 

The  New  Testament  is  but  a  mere  book  of  symbolizations.  It 
simply  describes  certain  things  of  Christ  that  happened  thr^'asands  of 


THE    WAY   OF  COMING    TO   CEBIST.  5 

years  ago,  out  of  which  we  can  form  some  conception  of  a  being. 
But  if  ever  you  are  to  come  to  Christ,  tliere  must  be  some  way  in 
which  he  shall  become  to  you  a  living  Christ.  There  must  be  some  way 
lu  which  your  heart  consciously  shall  have  vibrations  in  consonance 
witli  his  heart.  Although  the  letter  has  its  use^,  and  although  it  is 
blessed  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  bring  men  to  Chiist,  in  its  own  way; 
yet  the  ordinary  way  in  which  men  seek  to  learn  Christ  by  reading 
the  Bible,  as  it  were  putting  themselves  into  the  Bible,  and  setting 
themselves  over  the  fire  of  devotion,  so  to  speak,  and  simmering, 
with  the  hope  that  at  last  they  will  be  penetrated  with  such  a  flavor 
of  Christ  that  they  will  have  a  perfect  knowledge  of  him — this 
mechanical  notion,  this  notion  of  the  cuisine^  as  I  might  almost  call 
it,  is  false  and  misleading. 

The  children  of  Christian  parents,  that  have  been  educated  to  a 
reverence  for  the  Bible,  are  very  apt  to  fall  into  tlus  notion,  and  to 
suppose  that  all  that  can  be  done  is  to  read  the  Bible  enough,  and 
then  to  wait  for  God's  sovereignty  to  convert  them.  So  no  one  goes  to 
Christ.  He  not  merely  says,  "  Come  unto  me,"  but  he  tells  you  how 
to  come — "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me."  You  are  to 
find  Christ  in  practical  emergencies.  You  are  to  find  Christ  in  a 
course  of  action. 

Do  I  cast  away  the  Bible  ?  No.  But  the  Bible  is  like  a  telescope. 
If  a  man  looks  through  his  telescope,  then  he  sees  worlds  beyond; 
but  if  he  looks  at  his  telescope,  then  he  does  not  see  any  thing  but 
that.  The  Bible  is  a  thing  to  be  looked  through  to  see  that  which  is 
beyond ;  but  most  people  only  look  at  it ;  and  so  they  see  only  the 
dead  letter. 

The  second  mode  of  attempting  to  find  Christ  which  may  be  cri- 
ticised, is  where  men  seek  to  come  to  him  speculatively,  or  by  the 
mere  help  of  the  understanding.  No  man  comes  to  Christ  at  all  with- 
out the  understanding ;  and  there  is  in  all  right  ways  of  preach- 
ing our  invisible  but  living  God,  a  practical  interplay  of  the  intellect. 
Therefore,  what  I  criticise  is  not  coming  by  thought-power,  but 
coming  exclusively  by  thought-power,  and  by  thought-power  in  its 
philosophical  abstractions.  There  are  many  who  seek  to  come  to  Christ 
by  a  theological  analysis  of  his  character.  To  analyze  the  divine 
character  is  very  well  after  you  have  come  into  a  unity  of  moral 
consciousness  with  God.  In  other  words,  to  turn  back  and  analyze 
experience ;  after  you  have  entered  upon  an  intercourse,  then  to  give 
farther  food  for  moral  feeling  by  enlarging  the  bounds  of  probable 
truth — this  is  very  wise.  But  it  is  not  the  mode  o?  finding.  It  is 
one  mode  of  cultivating  acquaintance ;  but  it  is  not  the  mode  of 
maJdng  acquaintance.  There  are  very  many  persons  who  have  no 
conception  of  any  Christ,  except  a  Christ  of  systems — not  the  Christ 


6  THE    WAY  OF  COMINQ    TO    CHBIST. 

of  our  text.  Men  attempt,  by  •controversial  investigation,  to  make 
their  imjoressions  more  vivid  ;  to  give  more  accuracy  to  tlieir  ideas ; 
to  limit  and  curtail.  They  are  very  laborious  in  fixing  Christ's  place. 
They  are  exceedingly  conscientious  in  measuring  the  moral  quantity 
of  his  being.  The  question  of  relation  to  the  Father,  and  to  the 
Spirit,  has  in  their  minds  an  utterly  irrelevant  proportion.  They 
examine  all  objections  with  a  critical  eye.  They  attempt  to  construct 
by  intellectual  processes  the  notion  of  Christ ;  and  then  they  try  to 
feel  as  though  they  were  acquainted  with  him.  This  is  absolutely 
artificial  in  method  and  usually  false  in  result.  Although  they  do 
not  intend  it,  yet,  comprehensively  regarded,  this  theological  mode 
of  constructing  God  is  supremely  conceited.  It  takes  it  for  granted 
that  men  have  the  power  to  put  the  lines  of  latitude  and  longitude 
upon  the  orb  of  divine  being ;  that  men  are  in  possession  of  all  the 
elements  which  go  to  constitute  a  heavenly  being  ;  that,  while  our 
own  being  is  the  type  of  that  which  we  are  to  find  out,  we  have  in 
ourselves  every  thing  which  belongs  to  a  higher  being.  No  man  can 
form  a  philosophical  conception  of  God  which  is  perfect,  which  he  can 
round  out  and  present  to  the  world,  and  of  which  he  can  say,  "That 
is  God — just  that,  and  no  more." 

To  hear  sects  disputing  ;  to  listen  to  their  arguments  ;  to  witness 
the  burnings  of  men,  the  rancor  of  their  books,  and  th'e  burning  of 
their  hearts  toward  each  other,  you  would  be  led  to  suppose  that  it 
was  the  easiest  thing  in  this  world  to  fashion  an  ample  and  satisfy- 
ing conception  of  the  divine  nature ;  but  it  is  the  problem  of  eternity, 
and  not  the  jsroblem  of  earth. 

Who  can  find  out  a  being  by  a  pure  process  of  thought  ?  You 
can  not  find  out  each  other  so.  No  man  can  come  into  acquaintance 
with  men  in  that  Avay.  You  must  come  into  the  knowledge  of 
your  fellow-men  sympathetically.  That  is  to  say,  feeling  must  in- 
terpret feeling ;  taste  must  interpret  taste ;  moral  sentiment  miffet 
interpret  moral  sentiment ;  intellection  must  interpret  intellection.  No 
man  gets  acquainted  with  men  except  by  living  intercourse.  And  is 
it  possible  that  we  should  know  a  higher  being  than  man  by  purely 
speculative  processes  ? 

Suppose  a  man,  in  seeking  the  companionship  of  the  woman  that  is 
to  be  his  life-long  and  trusted  friend,  should  proceed  by  a  purely  in- 
tellectual method.  Being  a  philosopher,  he  sends  to  know  her  exact 
height,  and  her  exact  weight;  and  then,  applying  the  principles  of 
physiology,  he  determines  that  in  that  height  and  in  that  weight  there 
is  so  much  solid  and  so  much  liquid  in  the  construction  of  the  body. 
He  analyzes  all  the  organs — the  brain,  the  lungs,  and  the  various  tissues 
and  constituent  parts — and  says  to  himself,  "  This  charmer  of  my  soul 
is  the  sum  total  of  all  these  organs."    And  then,  that  he  may  be  in- 


THE    WAY  OF  COMING    lO   CHRIST.  ^ 

formed  witli  the  spirit  of  humanity,  he,  as  a  mental  philosopher, 
analyzes  all  the  faculties  that  go  to  constitute,  psychologically  con- 
sideved,  a  human  being,  and  makes  an  inventory  of  them.  Taking 
first  a  iDliysiological,  and  then  a  psychological  inventory  of  all  that 
goes  to  constitute  this  beloved  charmer,  he  puts  them  together,  and 
tries  to  fall  in  love  Avith  the  result ! 

Did  you  ever  know  one  person  to  fall  in  love  with  another 
philosophically  ?  Is  not  philosophy  the  last  thing  that  has  to  do 
with  it  ?  Do  not  men  fall  in  love  by  the  heart,  if  at  all?  They 
never  fill  in  love  head-first,  but  always  heart-first,  if  the  love  is  good 
for  any  thing. 

Shall  it  be  so  in  isespect  to  those  that  are  of  your  own  sphere,  or 
your  own  level ;  of  those  who  are  easily  accessible ;  whose  attributes 
you  can  look  down  upon,  as  it  were,  and  interpret  ?  shall  it  be  im- 
possible for  you  to  come  into  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  them 
except  by  the  interplay  of  heart-life  between  you  and  them  ?  and  shall 
we  undertake  to  enter  into  the  acquaintance  of  the  Invisible  and  the 
Infinite  by  a  speculative  conception  which  we  project  against  a  vain 
philosophical  background  ?  Can  any  man  become  acquainted  with  the 
divine  natui'e  in  that  way  ?  Yet,  how  many  hundreds  of  pulpits  are 
marveling  that  they  are  barren  !  They  are  astonished  because  they  have 
defined  Christ,  because  they  have  weighed  him,  because  they  have  meas- 
ured him,  because  they  have  fathomed  his  sonship,  because  they  have 
made  known  the  enlightening  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  because 
they  have  marked  the  difference  between  Arianism  and  Arminianism, 
and  the  difference  between  Unitarianism  and  Trinitarian  ism,  because 
they  have  explained  all  the  points  of  Calvinism — because  they  have 
done  all  these  things,  and  more,  and  yet  people  do  not  become  Chris- 
tians !  And  then,  they  think  it  is  because  of  the  hardness  of  men's 
hearts  ;  that  it  is  because  men  are  depraved. 

l^o  person  will  come  to  Christ  who  does  not  find  some  way  of 
coming  by  taking  his  yoke.     It  is  not  by  taking  a  speculative  mea-  ^ 
sure  of  the  divine  nature  that  men  are  to  come.     There  is  a  yoke  to 
be  taken. 

Tljen  there  are  those  who  seek  Christ  by  a  sentimental  and  humani- 
tarian method.  I  can  hardly  trust  myself  to  desci'ibe  them.  It  is 
scarcely  ever  wise  for  one  to  attempt  to  describe  that  which  he  holds 
in  contempt ;  and  I  certainly  hold  in  great  contempt  the  sentimental 
followers  of  Christ — these  men  that  pat  Jehovah  on  the  back,  and 
patronize  Christ,  and  tliink  he  was  a  good  man — an  excellent  man — 
considering  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  the  fact  that  he  did  not 
sit  under  their%ninistry  !  He  had  faults ;  all  have  faults  ;  but  still  he 
was  the  elder  brother  of  the  race  !  A  large  being  was  his,  and  he  wag 
a  very  cultivated  man,  considering  that  he  had  not  the  advantages  of 


8  THE    WAY  OF  COMING    2 J   CHRIST. 

modern  refinement  and  scientific  investigation !  Most  liumanis  was 
he ;  and,  as  far  as  he  was  right,  he  is  to  be  our  pattern !  To  be  a 
Christian  means  not  to  believe  in  Christ  mainly,  they  think.  One 
distinguished  clergyman  in  New-York  has  even  declared,  in  print, 
that  one  of  the  best  Christians  he  ever  knew  was  a  person  who  said 
he  was  conscientiously  obliged  to  decline  believing  in  Christ.  I  can 
not  restrain  my  contempt  for  this  kind  of  trifling.  This  sentimental 
notion  of  making  Christ  a  oiothing^  in  order  that  he  may  come  nearer 
to  you,  and  be  more  like  you,  is  the  annihilation  of  every  thing  that 
touches  the  human  soul  with  enthusiasm. 

Is  there  any  thing  in  this  sentimental  humanitarianism  of  Christ 
that  will  fire  zeal?  I  might  like  to  know  such  a  person;  but  I 
would  not  put  myself  out  of  the  way  to  know  such  a  one.  I  might 
feel  that  if  the  world  were  filled  with  people  that  were  like  such  a 
one,  it  would  be  a  much  better  world.  But  that  which  I  need  in  the 
great  battle  of  life  is  a  power  with  God.  Of  men  I  have  enough ; 
and  of  human  heroes  enough  ;  but  they  can  not  helj)  me.  They  have 
their  own  load  to  carry.  They  have  their  own  burden,  and  their 
own  sin.  I  need  a  divine  fire.  I  carry  a  pride  that  will  not  submit 
to  a  man;  and  I  need  something  higher  than  myself  in  my  conflict 
with  pride — with  passions  burning  to  the  lowest  hell.  Shall  human 
tears  assuage  the  flame,  or  extinguish  the  burning  coals  ?  Are  there 
not  men  here  who,  being  weakened,  oppressed,  and  goaded  by  the 
various  influences  of  life,  have  felt  that  they  carried  hell  with  them, 
and  that  their  faculties  might  almost  be  demonized,  and  called 
fiends  ?  And  amidst  the  conflicts  of  men  in  the  world,  is  it  enough 
for  us  that  there  is  a  mild  and  gentle  creature  somewhere  far  away 
that  looks  with  sympathy  and  compassion  upon  ns  ?  I  need  some 
one  that  can  touch  me  to  the  bottom  of  my  soul.  I  need  some  one 
that  shall  speak  to  me  out  of  eternity.  I  need  some  one  that  has 
infinity  of  power,  and  with  whom  I  am  in  symj^athy. 

The  poetic  and  mystic  conceptions  of  coming  to  Christ  lie  open  to 
precisely  the  same  line  of  reasoning.  There  are  very  many  who  have 
a  vague  aspiration.  They  long  for  Christ  as  they  long  for  pictures ; 
as  they  long  for  beautiful  scenery.  They  think  that  the  true  concep- 
tion of  Christ  is  eminently  poetic;  and  their  heart  loves  to  have 
day-dreams  in  this  matter.  In  a  Christian  experience,  Avhen  the 
other  grounds  and  the  other  elements  of  it  are  established,  then  the 
poetic  instinct  becomes  an  enriching  element  not  only,  but  a  very 
helpful  element ;  but  alone  it  has  in  it  nothing  that  can  touch  the 
soiil's  decider  faculties. 

At  last,  hear  the  Saviour  himself  declare,  "  He  thaj  hath  my  com- 
mandments, and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me."  Hear  him 
say,  "  If  any  man  will  do  my  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine 


TEE    WAT   OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST.  9 

wliich  I  teach,"  Hear  him  say,  "  Come  nnto  me,  take  ray  yoke ; 
learn  of  me,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."  What  is  the  mode 
then,  of  coming  to  the  Saviour  ?  How  are  we  to  come  to  Christ  ?  I 
reply  that  we  are  to  come  to  him  through  a  series  of  moral  practical 
endeavors  to  live  the  life  which  he  has  prescribed  for  us. 

For  example,  let  a  man  begin  to  love  God — for  there  is  a  point 
which  is  common  to  every  one.  There  is  not  a  man  living  that  be- 
lieves in  a  personal  God  who  does  not  admit  that  we  ought  to  love 
God ;  and  I  suppose  there  is  no  honest  and  intelligent  man  who  would 
not  admit  that  he  does  not  love  God  as  he  ought.  If  one,  then, 
desires  to  come  to  Christ,  let  him,  in  the  first  place,  begin  to  love 
God!  And  what  will  be  the  result  of  the  first  endeavor  ?  It  will  be 
vacuity;  it  will  be  emptiness.  Let  a  man  lift  his  thoughts  u^d,  and 
attempt  to  love,  if  he  wants  to  know  how  empty  he  is.  A  man  has 
flattered  himself  that  he  is  a  moral  man,  a  very  good  man,  an  excel- 
lent man ;  but  now  let  the  command  of  God  come  to  him,  "  Love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and  strength." 
Now,  let  a  man,  on  Sunday  and  on  week-days,  at  morning  and  at 
evening,  honestly,  and  in  godly  sincerity,  attempt  to  love  God,  and 
see  how  utterly  empty  he  is  of  that  disposition.  How  void  the  expe- 
rience will  be  !  You  think  you  could  do  it ;  but  try  to  do  it. 
You  think  that  you  could  do  it,  and  that  you  do  do  it  sometimes ; 
but  now  let  your  heart  ascend.  Put  it  upon  that  one  experience. 
Grasp  in  your  thought  some  such  conception  of  God  as  that  your 
heart  rises  up  toward  him  in  a  glow  of  triumphant  afiection.  Enable 
yourself  to  say,  if  you  can,  "O  God,  thou  knowest  that  I  love 
thee  !"  And  the  result  of  that  first  struggle  will  be  that  you  will 
be  convinced  that  the  love  of  God  is  not  in  you.  You  will  be  con- 
vinced that  your  soul  has  been  trained  in  the  other  direction.  While  it 
may  have  the  dormant  elements  out  of  which  this  love  may  spring,  you 
will  be  convinced  by  your  past  life,  by  the  whole  course  and  career  of 
'your  past  experience,  that  you  have  been  void  and  empty  of  the  love  of 
God.  Now,  let  a  man  that  is  in  earnest  say,  "  Yet  this  is  my  duty, 
and  to  this  I  will  attain ;"  let  him  in  an  agony,  if  need  be,  of  desire, 
in  a  purpose  that  will  not  be  turned  aside,  say,  "  I^o^7^break  through, 
and  I  will  love  my  God ;"  let  him  go  to  Christ  and  say,  "  I  take  this 
yoke  " — for  it  is  a  yoke ;  "  I  take  this  burden  " — for  it  is  a  burden ; 
"  I  am  weak  and  pulseless ;  my  thoughts  are  wandering  ;  but  I  have 
come  to  prove  thee.  Lord  Jesus — if  there  be  a  Lord  Jesus.  Thou 
hast  said,  '  Take  my  yoke ;'  and  here  it  is.  I  take  the  yoke  of  a 
loving  God ;  and  that  I  may  find  rest  in  my  soul,  reveal  thyself 
to  me." 

That  is  one  step  in  coming  toward  God,  and  toward  the  loving 
Christ.     Begin  to  love  men  benevolently.     If  we  love  those  that  love 


10  THE    WAF  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST. 

us,  what  thank  have  we  ?  Even  the  heathen  do  that.  Begin  to  love 
men  that  are  not  lovable,  t  Begin  to  love  men  that  are  outside  of 
your  family  relationships,  outside  of  your  business  affinities,  and  out- 
side of  your  race  affinities.  Begin  to  look  upon  mankind  as  one 
brotherhood  ;  and  have  in  yourself  the  evidence  and  outflow  of  that 
benevolence  which  takes  in  universal  being.  I  do  not  mean  that  you 
are  to  do  this  in  your  leisure  and  sentimental  hours  :  I  mean  that  you 
are  to  go  forth  to-morrow  morning,  and  manifest  this  benevolence  in 
your  daily  affairs.  Let  the  physician  in  the  scenes  in  which  he  must 
mingle  carry  with  liim  warm  and  strong  the  affluence  of  that  bene- 
ficence which  Christ  carried.  Let  the  rivalries  of  business  not 
check  this.  Go  forth  to  your  store,  to  your  pursuits,  to  your  station, 
whatever  it  is.  Go  wherever  you  please ;  among  the  ignorant,  the 
poor  and  the  lowly,  or  among  the  high,  and  the  strong,  and  the  law- 
less ;  go  among  men  that  are  mean,  that  are  wicked,  that  are  bad 
men  ;  go  among  all  men  ;  and  still  have  this  witness  in  yourself,  "  I 
carry,  as  God  does,  a  heart  that  shines  out  toward  them  :  I  am  like 
the  sun  that  shines  on  the  reptile  and  the  gazelle ;  upon  the  deadly- 
nightshade  and  the  violet.  I  am  like  God,  in  that  I  carry  the  spirit 
of  love  to  every  human  being."  Begin  to  carry  that  spirit.  How  much 
have  you  of  it?  How  much  is  it  subject  t9  your  volition?  How 
far  have  you  gone  on  in  that  way  ?  Prove  yourself  You  can  not 
take  the  first  step.  If  you  attempt  to  take  it,  you  will  come  back 
with  this  testimony,  that  he  who  carries  that  spirit  must  constrain 
the  tendencies  of  his  nature.  All  the  flood  of  feeling  goes  the  other 
way.  We  love  ourselves  first.  Then  we  love  distributively  those  that 
are  ours  by  connection  and  kinship.  But  the  feeling  grows  fainter  and 
fainter  as  we  go  on ;  and  in  respect  to  the  great  world,  men  live 
substantially  as  animals,  with  various  envyings,  and  jealousies,  and 
rivalries,  and  contentions,  and  uncharitable  thoughts,  and  rejoicings 
in  evil  instead  of  good,  and  all  manner  of  scandals  and  caustic  re- 
marks.    Men  do  not  love  men. 

Now,  straighten  yourself  up,  my  brother  that  wants  to  know 
the  way  to  Christ.  Begin  by  loving  God.  And  then  step  out  to- 
morrow and  begin  to  love  yoiir  fellow-men.  Ah  !  you  will  find  Jesus 
in  the  wilderness.  I  will  not  hold  up  before  you  any  incomprehensi- 
ble doctrine ;  but  I  urge  upon  you  the  truth  that  all  men  are  to  love 
each  other,  which  you  understand  as  well  as  I  do.  I  declare  that  all 
men  are  to  be  to  you  dear,  and  that  it  is  to  be  your  disposition  to  do 
them  good  ;  to  help  them  ;  to  bear  with  them ;  to  weep  with  them,  ra- 
ther than  to  make  them  weep  ;  to  suffer  for  them,  rather  than  to  make 
them  suffer ;  to  make  them  rich,  rather  than  to  increase  your  own 
riches  at  their  expense.  No  man  can  try  to  awaken  in  himself  this 
disposition  but  he  will  soon  find  that  Christ's  burden  and  yoke  is  on 


TEE    WAT  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST.  1 

him,  and  that  it  is  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne,  and  a  yoke  mos-* 
galling  to  the  neck  of  unregenerated  selfishness.  Now  say,  in  tho 
silence  of  the  night,  or  in  the  silence  of  your  own  thought,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  thou  hast  promised  that,  if  I  would  take  this  yoke,  it  would  bo 
easy,  and  if  I  would  take  this  burden,  it  would  be  light.  Thou  hasfc 
called  me  to  bear  the  burden  and  to  wear  the  yoke.  Let  me  have 
the  joy  and  the  peace." 

Go  to  Christ  so.  Try  this.  Begin  in  earnest.  Begin  to  put  your 
whole  life-force  into  the  new  ambitions  that  will  arise  from  this  mode 
of  loving  God  and  man.  Change  the  current  of  your  life.  Now, 
though  you  believe  in  morality,  and  in  sjiirituality,  they  are  alterna- 
tives. They  are  intermittent.  The  force  of  your  life  now  really  flows 
out  for  the  world  that  now  is,  and  for  the  things  of  the  world.  But 
begin  to  live  above  this  present  world.  Begin  to  lift  your  thoughts 
ujD  so  that  the  unseen  shall  become  more  vivid  to  you  than  the  seen, 
and  the  spii-itual  more  than  the  sensuous.  Let  there  be  a  new  ambi- 
tion, a  new  aim,  a  new  heart-love.  Give  a  new  direction  to  your 
thoughts  and  feelings.  Attempt  so  to  live  a  little  while,  and  you  will 
find  that  there  is  a  yoke  there,  that  there  is  a  burden  there,  the  one 
and  the  other.  Go  with  that  burden  and  that  yoke,  and  say,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  in  the  way  of  thine  appointing  I  have  attempted  to  walk." 
My  dear  brethren,  Christ  never  commanded  you  to  do  any  thing, 
that  he  did  not  stand  in  the  path  to  hel|)  you  to  do  it.  If  you 
want  to  love  God,  Jesus  Christ  stands  close  by,  and  says, "  If  you 
will  take  that  yoke  upon  you,  you  shall  learn  of  me;  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  Come  unto  me.  Come  so."  If  you  attempt  to  love 
your  fellow-men  with  a  disinterested  benevolence,  Christ  says,  "  Are 
you  coming  to  me?  Will  you  take  this  yoke  and  this  burden? 
Then  you  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls."  Are  you  willing  to  take 
this  yoke,  and  live  above  the  world  while  you  are  in  it  ?  Jesus  Christ 
is  standing  and  saying,  "  I  will  reveal  myself  unto  you.  Not  as  unto 
the  world  will  I  manifest  myself  unto  you."  And  he  will  keep  his 
word. 

Go  further.  Do  not  shrink  back,  when  you  find,  in  the  providence  of 
God,  that  cares,  and  fears,  and  troubles  are  upon  you ;  when  you  find 
yourself  environed  by  those  daily  struggles  which  are  incident  to  your 
social  organization.  Mother,  whose  household  is  heavier  than  you 
can  bear,  whese  children  are  a  bui'den  that  you  can  not  carry,  some- 
times you  seek  relief  by  running  to  earthly  friends,  and  sometimes  you 
sleep  ofi"  your  trouble.  There  is  many  a  sore  heart — sore  in  the  har- 
ness of  daily  life.  In  sickness,  in  nervous  weakness,  in  desiDondency 
and  discouragement,  you  are  trying  to  live  faithful  to  your  husband, 
faithful  to  your  children,  faithful  to  your  name  and  to  youi-self.  And 
yet  it  seems  to  you  every  day  as  though  the  spii'it  of  life  would  be 


12  THE   WAT  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST. 

crushed  out  of  you.  You  want  to  do  right ;  but  you  can  say,  "  The 
cloud  is  evermore  over  me,  and  life  is  a  burden ;  and  if  it  were  not  for 
my  children,  I  would  not  care  to  live."  How  many  there  are— oh ! 
sad  commentary  on  life !— who  say,  "  K  it  were  not  for  one  and  anoth- 
er, I  would  be  willing  to  die."  And  right  in  the  midst  of  life,  in  the 
midst  of  youth,  and  in  the  plentitude  of  years,  how  many  there  are 
whose  fears,  and  cares,  and  sorrows,  and  rasping  experiences,  are  such 
that  they  would  die  if  they  could ! 

Are  you  willing  to  take  those  cares  and  those  fears  which  God 
has  put  upon  you  as  a  yoke  and  as  a  burden,  and  to  stand  in  them, 
and  go  to  Christ  and  say,  "Lord  Jesus,  I  accept  all  these.  Thou 
hast  said,  '  Come  to  me  through  cares  and  through  burdens,'  and  I 
have  come;  and  I  shall  die  if  there  is  not  some  help  sent  to  me?" 
Ah !  the  dark  closet,  how  often  does  it  prove  to  be  the  gate  of  heaven ! 

I  knew  a  man  proud  and  cultured,  the  child  of  religious  associations 
and  parentage,  himself  skeptical  by  theological  mistraining,  who,  go- 
ing out  into  life,  at  last  came  to  the  head  of  an  immense  public  school 
in  Philadelphia.  There  were  some  six  hundred  scholars  in  the  school. 
They  tasked  his  authority  and  they  tasked  his  faith  to  the  uttermost. 
One  day — as  he  told  me  afterward — he  came  to  the  climax,  and  felt 
that  that  school  was  mastering  him,  that  there  was  no  more  strength 
in  himself,  and  that  he  should  be  crushed.  He  went  back  to  his  seat, 
and  sat  down,  and  opened  the  lid  of  the  desk  to  hide  his  face,  and, 
shutting  his  eyes,  said,  "  Lord  Jesus,  I  shall  die  if  thou  dost  not  help 
me !"  And,  said  he,  in  relating  the'  cu-cumstance  to  me,  "  I  rose  from 
that  place  believing,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  that  there  was  a 
God ;  and  I  threw  my  soul  on  him,  and  he  held  me  up." 

I  do  not  believe  there  ever  was  a  soul  that  went  to  Jesus  with  a 
yoke  or  a  burden,  saying,  "  I  can  not  bear  it :  Jesus,  succor  me !"  that 
Christ  did  not  reveal  himself  to  that  soul.  And  oh  !  how  blessed  is  a 
yoke  or  a  burden,  how  blessed  is  a  care  or  a  sorrow,  that  draws  a 
person  away  from  himself,  and  into  the  arms  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Oh !  how  base  is  that  wealth  that  forfeits  heaven.  Oh !  how 
poor  is  that  love  that  cheats  us  of  God's  love.  Oh !  how  unmanly  is 
that  ease  which  takes  away  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of 
God.  Oh  !  how  blessed  are  those  tears  that  shall  be  wiped  away  from 
every  eye  by  and  by.  Oh !  how  sweet  are  those  cares  which  teach 
us  to  lean,  our  head  upon  the  bosom  of  the  Beloved.  Oh !  how  joy- 
ful are  those  sorrows  which  bring  us  to  Him  that  is  the  Comforter  of 
those  that  mourn  uj)on  earth. 

Let  the  same  line  of  thought  be  applied  to  men  who  are  beset  with 
their  own  passions,  and  who  are  under  temptation.  I  know  men  thai 
have  fallen  into  the  snare  of  strong  drink.  They  see  the  better  way ; 
they  hate  the  wrong ;  they  sufier  the  torments  of  the  damned,  in  their 


THE    WAY  OF  COMING    TO    CHBISI  13 

luminous  intervals ;  and  they  lon^  to  break  their  habits.  I  have 
known  men  that  had  been  caught  with  salacious  desires,  and  had  gone 
into  the  house  of  the  strange  woman,  which  is  the  house  of  death ;  and 
their  passions,  set  on  fire  of  hell,  could  not  be  quenched  by  them- 
selves. Still  reforming,  and  still  failing ;  still  promising  themselves, 
and  still  untrue  to  their  own  promises,  the  doubtful  battle  has  been 
fought  until  their  heart  has  become  black  within  them ;  and  they  have 
said,  "  I  am  bound !  I  am  bound !  I  would  to  God  that  I  was  free 
from  these  passions."  There  are  men  who  have  been  caught  with 
avarice.  There  are  men  who  have  been  caught  in  the  thief's  snare, 
and  in  the  liar's  snare,  and  in  the  traU  of  ungodly  men.  There  are 
men  whose  passions  and  appetites  are  making  terrible  war  upon 
them.  And  the  truth  at  times  flashes  on  them,  and  the  feeling  comes 
over  them,  "  Unless  I  am  released  from  these  terrific  passions,  they 
will  carry  me  down  to  the  chambers  of  death."    And  so  they  will. 

I  do  not  believe  that  a  man,  ordmarily  speaking,  who  is  originally 
endowed  with  very  strong  passions,  and  who  has  given  loose  to 
them,  can  be  plucked  out  from  the  thrall,  the  hell,  of  these  passions, 
except  by  the  Hand  that  holds  the  very  universe  itself.  But  if  a  man,  in 
the  midst  of  these  passions,  instead  of  seeking  his  Own  strength,  will 
say,  "  Lord  Jesus,  thou  hast  said, '  Come  unto  me,  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'  'I  am  both  burdened  and 
crushed  with  my  own  sins,  with  my  own  wickedness,  with  my  own 
meanness,  and  am  bowed  down  and  helpless.  Thou  hast  said  that  if 
I  would  come  and  take  thy  yoke  and  learn  of  thee,  I  should  find  rest  to 
my  soul.  I  come.  Yet  I  need  help  to  take  the  yoke,  and  to  get  the 
burden  on — ^the  burden  of  piu-ity,  and  the  yoke  of  regularity  and 
righteousness  " — if  any  soul  goes  thus  to  God,  do  you  think  he  will 
not  reveal  himself  ? 

There  came  to  me,  last  week,  one  whose  bad  ways  I  had  known,  and 
whom  I  had  avoided,  supposing  that  he  was  but  a  sponge ;  but  havmg 
since  January  last  maintained  a  better  covirse,  he  came  to  me,  and  to 
my  surprise  spoke  of  his  past  life,  of  his  degradation,  and  of  his  new 
purpose,  and  said,  "  The  kindness  that  some  friends  have  shown  me 
has  been  very  comforting  and  very  encouraging."  I  sat  there,  and 
my  heart  trembled  like  jelly.  I  rebuked  myself  that  I  ever  had  any 
other  thought  than  that  he  might  be  rescued.  And  as  he  went  on, 
my  heart  went  out  toward  him.  And  I  said  to  myself.  What  would 
I  not  give  if  I  could  save  this  man  ?  I,  a  selfish  man,  I,  a  proud 
man,  I,  a  worldly  man,  I,  burdened  like  himself — I,  rising  above  my 
lower  nature,  felt  my  tetter  nature  asserting  itself.  And  I  longed 
to  take  him  up  in  my  arms,  and  out  of  the  entanglements  and  temp- 
tations which  beset  him,  and  make  a  man  of  him.  And  do  you 
suppose  that  I  could  feel  this,  and  Christ  feel  nothing  when  one 
comes  to  him,  saying,  "  Lo»'d  Jesus,  have  mea-cy  on  me  !" 


14  TEE    WAY  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST. 

Do  you  remember,  when  from  the  gates  of  hell  and  damnation 
there  came  up  one  of  those  poor  wretched  creatures  that  all  the  world 
agree  to  tread  under  foot,  and  stood  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  wiping  his 
feet  with  the  hair  of  her  head,  how  she  was  more  to  him  than  all  that 
guest-chamber?  The  words  that  he  spoke  of  comfort  and  of  love 
to  her  are  words  that  will  go  on  sounding  down  through  the  ages 
of  time,  saying  to  every  poor  soul  that  wants  to  escape  from  its  ene- 
mies, from  the  thrall  of  its  passions,  "  Go  to  Jesus.  There  is  heart 
there.  There  is  a  loving  Saviour  there.  Do  not  give  up.  Do  not  go 
back.  Never  trust  alone  what  other  men  can  do, nor  what  you  can  do. 
Take  the  yoke.  Take  the  burden.  Put  Christ  to  proof  Bring  him 
to  judgment."  And  in  the  last  day,  if  Christ  ever  forsakes  a  man  that 
wants  to  be  saved,  and  that  puts  himself  before  him,  then  rise  up  in 
that  day  of  judgment,  and  say,  "  I  did  come  to  thee,  and  thou  didst 
cast  me  out !"  The  heavens  will  collai^se,  and  the  universe  will  dis- 
solve'; but  there  shall  be  no  such  thing  as  that.  No  man  ever  came 
to  him  and  was  cast  out. 

But  these  are  enough  instances  to  illustrate  the  distinction  I  make. 
You  can  not  come  to  Christ  speculatively ;  you  can  not  come  to  him 
historically ;  but  come  to  Christ  in  the  actual  jiractice  of  Christian 
feeling ;  in  the  actual  struggle  toward  a  Christian  life.  Propound  to 
yourself  a  Christian  character.  Mark  out  for  yourself  Christian  du- 
ties. Determine  in  your  mind  what  things  are  right  and  what  things 
are  wrong  in  life  ;  and  at  every  step  of  hinderance  and  burden,  at 
every  step  of  temptation  and  thwai-ting,  at  every  point  of  battle,  call 
upon  Christ.  Look  to  him  and  trust  in  him.  There  will  be  earnest- 
ness and  sincerity  in  that  attempt  to  follow  Christ,  and  no  man  will 
fail  who  makes  it. 

If  these  things  be  so,  \AiQn,  first,  we  see  the  miserable  sentimental- 
ism  of  the  school  of  modern  Christ-critics — the  Delia  Ci'uscansof  reli- 
gion. I  like  liberality,  but  I  do  not  like  weakness.  I  like  to  see  men 
free  to  think ;  but  when  men  are  free  to  think,  I  want  them  to  think  to 
some  purpose.  In  one  respect  I  am  a  liberal  Christian,  but  in  an- 
other respect  I  am  not  a  liberal  Christian.  I  believe  in  a  God  that 
has  power ;  and  I  never  could  have  any  affinity  Avith  any  system  that 
had  not  power  to  awaken  men's  fears,  and  quicken  men's  con- 
sciences, and  that,  when  they  were  awakened,  had  no  power  and 
no  substance  by  which  to  take  hold  of  them.  I  long  for  a  theology, 
and  I  love  a  gospel,  that  has  in  it  power  to  shake  men  ;  that  has  in  it 
Ihuuder,  as  well  as  rain  and  dew.  Those  Delia  Cruscan  teachers 
that  are  all  pulp,  are  like  thin  fogs  hanging  over  shallow  oceans. 
The  old  rugged  doctrines  of  the  schools  may  be  too  sharp  here  or 
there,  and  they  may  have  wrecked  many  a  sensitive  nature ;  but, 
after  all,  those  old  rugged  doctrines  have  in  them  power  both  for  con- 
demnation and  for  lifting  up  and  consolation. 


TEE    WAT  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST.  15 

"What  we  want,  then,  is  this  power.  "We  want  to  stop  men  ;  for 
the  whole  Avorld  is  rushing  blindly  onward.  Wickedness  everywhere 
is  triumphant.  We  need  power  in  the  Gospel,  We  need  a  Christ 
that  has  power — a  living  Christ — a  Christ  revealed  for  the  salvation 
of  men  individually,  and  thus  collectively.  ^^  Christ — the  Wisdom 
of  God,  and  the  Power  of  God.'''' 

Secondly,  I  may  remark  upon  the  languid  and  temporizing  ways 
by  which  men  have  been  accustomed  to  seek  religion — that  is,  to  seek 
Christ.  Their  mode  of  doing  it  accounts  for  their  want  of  success. 
There  are  thousands  of  men — and  many  in  my  hearing — who  suppose 
that  they  have  been,  in  one  way  or  another,  rather  seeking  religion 
for  a  good  while. 

Suppose  a  general,  in  giving  an  account  to  the  government  of  a 
battle  that  he  had  fought,  should  say  that  he  had  an  army  of  two 
thousand  men  over  against  his  adversary;  that  on  the  whole  he  had 
rather  been  skirmishing  with  him ;  that  he  had  done  some  things ; 
that  he  had  fired  off  a  number  of  guns,  hoping  that  by  and  by  some- 
thing would  occui'.  Is  that  the  way  battles  are  fought  ?  And  yet, 
is  not  that  the  way  the  grand  battle  of  the  human  soul  is  being  fought  ? 
Can  you  conceive  of  the  battle  of  a  soul,  in  its  selfishness  and  pride  and 
vs'orldliness,  panting  like  the  lion  of  Milton  to  get  free  ?  And  can  a 
soul  break  away  from  its  thraldom  in  the  indolent  and  languid  way 
which  most  persons  bring  to  the  consideration  ?  It  bears  no  propor- 
tion in  its  soul-power  and  earnestness  to  the  efforts  which  are  made 
for  lower  and  easier  things.  If  your  soul  was  worth  gaining  the  e§r 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  much  as  you  consider  your  earthly  estate 
and  honor  worth  gaining  the  ear  of  the  magistrate,  oh  !  how  different 
would  be  the  experience. 

We  find  in  the  Bible  the  saying,  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  suffer- 
eth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force."  Do  you  want  to  know 
what  that  means  ?  Go  to  Washington,  and  you  will  see.  When  men 
want  any  thing,  see  how  they  go  to  get  it.  The  capital  of  a  rej)ublic 
"  suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force."  There  are  fifty 
men  squabbling  for  every  single  office,  every  one  having  armed  him- 
self with  all  jjossible  influence,  direct  and  collateral ;  with  every  thing 
that  can  come  from  the  head,  every  thing  that  can  come  from  the  heart, 
and every  thing  else  !  See  how  night  and  day  they  plan,  and  com- 
bine, and  labor,  and  wear  out  resistance,  to  get  Avhat  ?  An  ofi-ce — tlie 
liberty  of  exile  to  some  foreign  country.  When  they  mean  imbition, 
when  they  mean  wealth,  when  they  mean  power,  when  they  mean  in- 
fluence, see  how  they  seek  it.  When  they  mean  the  salvation  of  their 
souls,  they  curl  themselves  up  in  a  sunny  place,  light  their  cigar,  and 
read  the  corner  of  the  newspaper,  or  dispute  with  their  minister  or  their 
neighbor  in  respect  to  some  tenet  or  doctrine.     And  they  get  up  ia 


iQ  TEE    WAY   OF  COMING    TO   CHRIST. 

meetings  and  say  that  they  are  rather  thoughtful  on  the  subject  of  rt, 
ligion,  on  the  whole  !  See  men  that  are  always  dreaming,  floating  in 
their  notions.  They  go  to  one  church.  "Well,  they  do  not  like  the 
music  in  that  church,  and  so  they  will  not  stay  there.  They  go  to 
another  church.  On  the  whole,  painted  windows  please  them,  and 
they  stay  there.  At  one  church  the  minister  is  good,  but  the  music 
is  poor ;  and  at  another  church  the  opposite  is  true.  And  so  these 
men,  as  if  they  were  in  Fulton  Market,  go  daintily  about  for  tender- 
loins, for  delicacies,  for  nice  j)arts,  and  call  that  being  moral,  thought- 
ful, earnest !  Shame  on  you  !  Shame  on  manhood,  that  a  man  should 
pretend  that  this  is  having  moral  impulse  or  moral  earnestness! 
Where  a  man  means  religion,  there  is  no  need  that  he  should  miss  re- 
ligion. A  man  that  means  manhood  has  a  road  broad  enough  for  a 
fool  to  find  out  at  midnight.  A  man  that  means  regeneration,  re- 
pression of  pride,  mastery  of  selfishness,  overthrow  of  filthy  passions — 
the  wearing  out  of  those  elements  that  come  near  wearing  out  his 
spirituality — do  you  suppose  that  such  a  man  takes  these  dilettante 
methods  of  making  it  appear  that  he  is  seeking  after  Christ  ? 

Do  you  ask  me  the  reason  w^hy  you  have  not  found  Christ  ?  I  tell 
you,  it  is  because  you  do  not  want  to ;  it  is  because  you  do  not  care. 
What  Avould  you  think  if  some  royal  woman,  cultured,  and  full  of 
sensibility,  should  be  sitting  at  her  window  ;  and  some  perfumed  fop, 
passing  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  and  seeing  her,  should  say  to 
her,  "  Come  down  here  :  let  me  court  you."  What  would  you  think  of 
sjich  an  address  as  that?  But  it  is  the  very  address  that  you  bring  to 
the  Lord  of  glory.  Dainty,  finical,  critical,  you  do  have  an  occa- 
sional moment  in  which  you  say,  "  Lord  Jesus,  if  you  wall  help  me,  I 
will  be  thine,"  patronizing  him,  aucl  on  the  whole,  flattering  him. 
This  you  call  seeking  religion  !  Oh !  the  conceit  of  wickedness. 
Oh  !  the  miserable'folly  of  conceit.  Oh  !  the  self-deluding  methods 
that  men  are  pursuing,  and  baptizing  with  the  name  of  religious 
thoughtfulness  and  religious  exertion.  A  man  who  is  crushed,  a  soul 
that  is  humbled,  a  man  who  feels  that  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death, 
a  man  who  has  in  himself  a  witness  that  he  is  dead  in  transgression 
and  sin,  and  calls  out  for  help,  and  feels  that  there  is  no  help  but  in 
God,  oh!  how  difierent  is  he.  Oh!  how  earnest.  Oh!  how  direct. 
And,  blessed  be  God,  how  successful  ! 

Let  me  speak  also  of  the  pity  of  the  Saviour.  Let  me  speak  of  the 
grandeur  of  that  nature  in  him  which  looks  on  the  sin  of  human  life, 
waits  for  this  experience,  watches,  and  is  infinitely  helpful  of  it  in  all 
its  wickednesses  and  dissipations.  When  I  look  at  the  inside  of  human' 
life,  I  am  alarmed.  I  think  it  is  not  safe  for  a  man  to  look  at  human 
nature.  There  are  some  things  which  it  is  not  safe  for  a  man  to 
think  about.    There  are  some  things  which  it  is  not  safe  to  be  fami- 


TEE    WAY   OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST.  17 

liar  with.  I  have  not  strength  to  look  upon  tlie  dark  side  of  human 
nature.  It  would  turn  me  sour.  It  would  turn  me  into  an  un- 
charitable, critical  spirit.     I  could  not  endure  it. 

Happening,  one  day,  into  a  seed-store  where  there  were  a  dozen 
young  crocodiles  in  an  aquarium,  I  came  suddenly  upon  them,  and 
turned  with  loathing  from  the  reptiles.  I  see  men  that  affect  raejust 
BO,  many  times.  Have  you  ever  been  into  a  natural  history  collec- 
tion, and  seen  cages  of  snakes,  the  very  odor  of  which  made  you  shud- 
der ?  Every  thing  that  is  in  you  abhors  such  a  spectacle.  And  so  I 
feel  when  I  see  corruption  in  courts  ;  when  I  see  corruption  in  lazar- 
houses  ;  when  I  see  the  corruption  of  thieves  in  New- York  ;  when  I  see 
the  corruption  of  public  men.  Then,  latent  thunder  rolls  along  the 
hills  of  my  horizon.  I  have  often  and  often  said  that  the  world  is 
fortunate  that  I  am  not  God.  I  have  no  such  conception  of  the  majesty 
and  beauty  of  God  as  when  I  think  that  there  is  nothing  that  escapes 
his  eye,  and  that  he  reads  every  individual  heart  through  and  through, 
and  knows  it  in  all  its  filthiness,  in  all  its  depths,  in  its  unimagin- 
able extent  and  scope — I  had  almost  said,  gloomy  grandeur — of  wick- 
edness ;  as  when  I  think  that  God  waits  for  such  wickedness,  and 
thinks  for  it,  as  a  mother  thinks  for  a  sick  child,  carrying  it  in  his  arms ; 
as  when  I  think  that  he  will  heal  it,  giving  himself  a  sacrifice  for 
it,  suffering  patiently,  as  a  type  and  specimen  of  that  suffering  which 
be  carries  eternally,  being  not  only  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  woild,  but  a  perpetual  sacrifice,  that  he  may  restore 
such  wickedness  to  purity,  and  bring  such  lost  ones  back  to  him- 
-elf  This  is  the  character  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  I  say, 
with  such  an  overhanging  genius,  with  such  a  presiding  divinity, 
with  such  a  God  and  Saviour,  need  any  man  perish?  need  any  man 
doubt  whether  he  can  be  a  victor  in  any  conflict  that  is  necessary  for 
his  soul  ?  There  is  hope  for  all ;  there  is  hope  for  the  poorest, 
for  the  weakest.  It  is  the  hope  that  springs  not  from  the  man's  self, 
but  from  the  help  and  fiiithfulness  of  his  God. 

I  bring  this  Christ  to  you  this  morning — my  Master,  whom  I 
have  proved,  and  who  has  given  me  victories  innumerable ;  hopes 
that  light  clear  forward  to  the  grave;  faith  that  reaches  sheer  across 
the  abyss,  and  illumines  the  city  beyond.  That  Saviour  who  has  ful- 
filled to  me  a  thousand  times  his  j^romises  in  sickness,  in  poverty  in 
former  days,  in  cares,  in  fears,  in  anxieties,  in  self-condemnations,  in 
aspirations — that  Saviour  of  whom  I  can  say,  "I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth" — I  bring  him  to  you. 

How  do  I  know?  If  that  organ  sounds,  I  know  that  there  is  some 
man  pressing  the  keys.  If  my  heart  gives  out  sounds,  I  know  that 
there  is  something  playing  on  it.  And  if  there  are  tendencies  and 
experiences  which  do  not  come  from  man's  touch,  or  froni  my  voli- 


18  THE    WAT  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST. 

tion,  I  know  that  it  is  the  suiDernal  touch,  and  a  divine   iufluenco 
resting  npon  me. 

That  Saviour  whom  I  know,  to  whom  I  have  committed  my  soul 
in  well-doing,  believing  that  he  will  keep  that  which  I  have  commit- 
ted to  him  in  the  day  of  redemption — that  Saviour  I  bring  to  you. 
There  is  no  need  that  any  of  you  should  perish.  There  is  no  need 
that  any  of  you  should  be  overborne  in  the  struggle  of  life.  There 
is  no  need  that  you  should  be  less  than  a  full  man  in  Christ  Jesus 
You  do  not  need  to  abide  on  that  doubtful,  that  misty  ground  of  in- 
sincerity, that  vague  ground  of  ever-revolving  and  unsatisfying 
skepticism.  There  is  for  you  a  pergonal  Saviour.  It  is  in  your  pow- 
er, if  you  will,  to  go  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Clirist.  If  you  will  take  the 
yoke,  and  bear  burdens,  it  will  be  in  your  power,  by  and  by,  to  rise 
and  say  among  your  brethren,  "I  have  found  the  Saviour.  I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth.  Henceforth  my  life  shall  be  hid  with 
Christ  in  God." 

"Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ?  Shall  tribula- 
tion, or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or 
sword  ?"  "  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors 
through  him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death, 
nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present 
nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  our  lord."  » 


PRAYER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  thou  ascended  Saviour,  believing  that  thou  art  not  rich  for  thyselt 
alone,  but  that  in  power,  in  goodness,  in  wisdom,  thou  art  rich  for  all  that  live,  and  that  need 
thee.  Thou  art  not  dwelling  in  a  central  praise  that  whirls  about  thee,  ministering  to  thine 
august  selfishness.  Thou  art  dwelling  in  praise,  as  a  mother  dwells  among  her  little  children 
that  love  her;  as  parents  dwell  in  households  where  they  are  revered  and  rejoiced  in.  It  Is  love 
that  praises  thee  in  heaven ;  and  the  ecstasy  of  delight  and  gladness  overflows  in  words  of  praise 
and  of  love.  Thou  art  not  for  those  that  are  in  heaven  alone.  Far  out  to  the  furthest  boupd 
of  creation,  where  life  is  struggling  to  live,  thou  art  felt ;  and  wherever  there  is  sentient  being, 
thou  art,  as  far  as  they  can  receive  thee,  interpreting  thyself  to  them,  and  persuading  them  to 
dwell  in  thee.  \Vhere  thy  name  is  known,  and  where  men  have  risen  into  companionship 
with  thee,  there  art  thou,  spealiing  words  strange  and  august  with  divine  love.  There  the  heaveu 
shines  with  promises,  as  our  heavens  with  stars.  There  thou  art  opening  all  the  things  that  we 
do  most  desire,  and  tempting  us  to  come  and  take  them.  Thou  art  most  glorious  in  holiness ; 
and  that  love  which  we  have  for  things  noble  should  lead  us  to  thee.  Every  desire  which  we 
have  for  purity,  all  the  admiration  which  we  have  had  in  men— this  finds  in  thee  that  which 
it  most  needs— its  perfcctness,  its  ideal  existence.  Thou  art  strength  to  those  that  need, 
and  that  are  weak.  Thou  art  sympathy  to  those  that  are  in  lowliness,  and  seem  shut  off  from  the 
comfort  and  the  consolation  of  aimpanionship.    Thou  art  infinitely  compassionate  to  those  that 


TEE   WAT  OF  COMING    TO   CHRIST.  19 

have  stumbled  and  fallen.  To  those  whose  consciences  have  risen  up  against  them,  and  have 
become  as  jailers,  and  do  torment  them,  bond-slaves.of  wrong-doing,  thou  art  the  Deliverer.  To 
those  that  are  wandering,  and  whose  feet  know  not  the  path ;  who  know  not  where  to  o-o  •  who 
are  unsettled,  and  are  seeking  good  hither  and  thither— to  such  lost  and  wandering  sheep  thou 
art  the  Shepherd,  to  seek  them  and  to  save  them.  Oh  !  that  men  had  faith  to  di^sccrn  what  treasure 
of  goodness  is  in  thee;  what  resources  of  power  are  thine;  what  wondrous  helpfulness  tho'i 
hast ;  how  thou  art  the  all-nursing  God,  as  well  as  the  God  of  judgment ;  how  thou  art  the  pity 
ing  God,  as  well  as  the  God  of  inflexible  righteousness ;  how  thou  dost  teach,  as  well  as  rebuke 
how  thou  dost  bear  up  in  thine  arms  the  trembling  and  the  sinful,  as  well  as  carry  the  iron 
sceptre  for  thine  adversary  1  Wondrous  art  thou  ;  blessed  in  thy  justice,  in  thy  purity,  and  in 
thy  truth.  Thou  art  thyself  the  pledge  that  wickedness  shall  not  dwell  forever  in  thy  realm 
Sorrow,  and  sighing,  and  tears,  and  sickness  shall  ilee  away,  and  the  former  things  shall  be  fou  ud 
no  more,  because  thou  art  strong,  and  wise,  and  just— a  God  of  righteousness  and  of  judgment. 
Who  shall  abide  thy  coming  ?  and  who  shall  abide  thine  administration  ?  Thou  art  a  God  ol 
mercy,  to  heal  the  sinful,  to  bind  up  the  wounded,  to  give  life  to  the  dead,  to  do  all  in  aU  t)  at 
they  may  become  the  sons  of  God. 

Are  there  not  in  thy  presence  waiting  souls  that  long  have  looked  toward  the  sun's  rising, 
but  upon  whom  yet  no  light  dawns  ?  O  Sun  of  Eighteousness  !  come  to  such  with  healing  in  thj 
beams.  Are  there  not  those  that  have  wandered  up  and  down,  saying.  Who  will  do  us  any  o-oud  ? 
And  amidst  the  dead  members  of  old  thoughts  and  theories,  have  they  not  found  themselves  un- 
fed, as  men  that  walk  among  bones  that  are  scattered  at  the  tomb's  mouth  ? 

O  Lord  Jesus  1  thou  that  didst  meet  her  in  the  garden  who  could  not  for  tears  see  who  thou 
wert,  and  didst  plead  with  thee  to  show  her  where  was  hidden  the  body  of  her  Beloved — thou  that 
didst  by  one  word  call  her  to  life  and  joy,  call  by  their  names  those  that  are  wandcrinc  now  • 
those  that  are  heart-sick  and  heart-weary  ;  those  that  have  not  been  deceived  by  the  emptiness 
of  the  world  ;  those  that  have  tried  what  could  be-done  by  sympathy,  and  what  human  praise 
could  do,  and  what  life  in  its  fullness  could  minister,  and  who  think  of  something  nobler  than 
these,  they  scarcely  know  what ;  who  yearn  for  a  higher  life ;  who  listen  to  all  the  specious 
words  that  paint  the  power  of  man  to  live  above  himself,  and  to  take  hold  upon  the  eternal  red- 
ties,  and  still,  chasing  bubbles,  find  them  bursting  in  their  hands. 

Lord  Jesus,  thou  art  real ;  thou  art  living ;  thou  art  the  Prince  of  ages.  Ten  thousand,  yea, 
hundreds  of  thousands,  of  such  thou  hast  called.  Thou  hast  instructed  their  hearts  and  made 
them  thine  own.  And  thou  art  not  old.  On  thy  brow  no  wrinkles  come  with  ages.  Thou  art 
the  eternally  young,  the  eternally  living,  without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turning,  yesterday 
to-day,  and  forever  the  same.  O  thou  that  art  life  !  come  to  those  that  in  our  time  need  that 
rescue  which  thou  hast  given  to  those  aforetime. 

And  grant,  we  .beseech  of  thee,  that  there  may  be  some  among  us  who  have  known  the  bless- 
edness of  thy  love,  that  shall  be  heard  singing  the  sweet  hymns  of  Zion.  Grant  that  there  may 
be  some  that  shall  win  others  by  their  voice,  .and  by  the  melody  of  their  Christian  love.  Grant  that 
there  may  be  some  hearts  burning  with  gi-atitude,  who  can  not  but  speak  of  what  Christ  hath 
done  for  them.  Grant  that  there  may  be  many  who  shall  be  led  by  the  light  of  oijr  experience 
to  seek  the  Father's  house.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  accept  the  confession  which  we 
make  of  our  unfaithfulness  to  thy  cause,  and  to  thee  ;  of  the  languidness  of  our  love ;  of  the  in 
sufficiency  of  our  service.  Grant  that  we  may  love  thee  more  and  more,  and  more  and  more- 
make  it  plain  to  men  that  we  have  been  with  Jesus,  and  that  there  is  the  Anointed— that  there  is 
the  power  of  God  to  forgive  sin,  and  to  heal  the  sinner. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  those  in  thy  presence  who  come  with  their 
various  interests  this  morning.  Illumine  the  dark-minded  ;  cheer  the  desponding ;  give  couraco 
to  those  who  are  almost  hopeless  ;  give  forgiveness  to  those  who  mourn  over  their  sins.  If  thert 
be  any  who  wash  thy  feet  with  tears,  and  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  their  head,  forgive  them. 
Grant  that  they  may  go  and  sin  no  more.  Deliver  all  that  are  in  the  thrall  of  temptation.  Giv« 
all  those  that  are  under  burdens  strength  to  bear  their  burdens.  Give  to  those  whom  thou  hast 
blessed  in  the  midst  of  sunshine  and  ilowers  and  dear  delights,  a  heart  to  bear  joy,  and  honnf 
Christ  in  their  gladness.  Grant  that  we  may  take  the  law  which  thou  hast  prescribed  for  us, 
whatever  it  may  be— whether  it  be  of  labor  or  of  rest ;  whether  it  be  a  mighty  going  forth  in  the 
day  of  battle,  or  whether  it  be  to  stand.  Whatever  may  be  thy  will,  as  interpreted  in  thy  provi- 
dence, may  we  rejoice  to  clothe  our  performance  with  all  wisdom  and  love  for  Christ's  sake.  May 
we  remember,  whatever  we  are  doing,  that  this  world  is  but  the  shadow  of  real  life  ;  that  thf 
world  to  come  is  coming,  and  if  we  had  ears  to  hear,  already  we  could  hear  the  sounds  of  angel 
footsteps  that  are  approaching  us.  May  we  live  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible,  and  in  a  con- 
stant preparation  for  those  joys  of  immortality  which  assuredly  are  ours.  So  may  we  take  the 
sting  away  from  care  and  grief;  and  so  may  we  take  away  the  hurtfulness  of  joy,  that  we  may 
live  as  not  abusing  the  privilege  of  our  place  and  the  gifts  of  our  God. 


20  TEE    WAY  OF  COMING    TO    CHRIST. 

And  when  at  last  the  summons  for  our  departure  shall  come,  may  it  be  to  us  as  the  unfold- 
ing of  the  banner  and  as  the  sound  of  the  trumpet ;  and  may  we  rush  forth— not  be  borne  lan- 
guidly ;  and  at  last  willingly,  eagerly  ma^  we  go  forth  to  meet  our  Lord,  and  be  present  with 
Christ,  which  is  better  than  life. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  of  our  salvation,  forever  and  ever.    Amen. 


PRATER  AFTER  THE  SERMOJf. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  God  I  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  the  hearts  and  the  consciences 
to  which  the  truth  has  been  spoken.  Oh  !  that  those  who  seek  for  thee  might  find  thee  speedily. 
Oh  1  that  there  might  be  many  who  should  seek  that  now  are  indifferent.  Wilt  thou  awaken  those 
who  are  indifferent.  Bring  to  thee  those  that  are  alienated  by  evil  works.  Glorify  thyself  in  re- 
establishing thine  image  upon  those  who  by  sin  have  effaced  it.  Grant  that  there  may  be  many 
testimonies  to  thy  saving  grace  in  this  congregation.  We  ask  it,  not  because  we  are  worthy,  but 
in  the  name  of  the  Beloved.    Amen. 


11. 


Conduct,  the  Index  of  Feeling. 


CONDUCT  THE  INDEX  OF  FEELING. 

SUNDAY    MORNING,    MAECH    21,    1869. 


INVOCATION. 

We  thank  thee,  our  heavenly  Father,  for  the  light  of  this  pleasant  morning,  and 
for  all  the  circumstances  of  great  mercy  with  which  thou  hast  called  us  hither. 
We  thank  thee  for  the  memories  that  do  not  fail  to  arise  in  this  place,  for  the 
hopes  which  here  brighten,  for  the  strength  which  we  have  received,  and  for  the 
hope  that  we  have  of  strength  yet  to  be  imparted.  Vouchsafe  to  us  this  morning 
the  evident  token  of  thy  presence — of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Quicken  our  affection. 
Give  us  access  to  thee  by  the  understanding,  by  faith,  by  love,  and  by  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost.    We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


"  If  ye  keep  my  commandments,  ye  shall  abide  in  my  love  ;  even  as  I  have 
kept  my  Father's  commandments,  and  abide  in  his  love.  These  things  have  I 
spoken  imto  you,  that  my  joy  might  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy  might  be 
full.  This  is  my  commandment,  That  ye  love  one  another,  as  I  have  loved  you. 
Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends. 
Ye  are  my  friends,  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you.  Henceforth  I  call  you  not 
servants ;  for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his  lord  doeth  :  but  I  have  called  you 
friends ;  for  all  things  that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father  I  have  made  known  unto 
you.  Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  I  have  chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  ye 
should  go  and  bring  forth  fjiiit,  and  that  your  fruit  should  remain  :  that  whatso- 
ever ye  shall  ask  of  the  Father  in  my  name,  he  may  give  it  you." — John  xv.  10-16. 

These  are  the  commands  of  our  Saviour  to  his  disciples,  including 
the  whole  duty  of  love.  You  will  be  struck  with  the  fact  that,  while 
he  laid  down  the  commandment  to  love  one  another  and  him,  the 
specifications  of  this  command  were  all,  "Keep  my  command- 
ments." He  commanded,  apparently,  an  emotion ;  but  he  interpreted 
that  command  into  obedience,  and  into  an  obedience  of  his  laws. 

This  question  of  loving,  the  experience  of  it,  how  to  attain,  how  to 
augment  it,  how  to  test  it,  and  to  discriminate  a  high  and  spiritual  love 
from  one  of  self-indulgence,  or  of  self-deception,  is  a  question  of  vital 
moment,  and  to  some  souls  of  great  perplexity  and  trouble.  It  is  not 
difficult  to  love;  but  how  to  love  one  not  seen;  how,  in  the  presence 
of  the  divine  truth  of  Christ,  to  force  a  heart  that  does  not  itself  rise 
spontaneously  into  the  quick  and  controlling  state  of  afiection ;  what 
lever  to  put  under  it,  what  inspiration  to  give  it — that  is  the  question. 
Must  one  wait  for  it  as  for  a  gift  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  Is  it  the 
result  of  volition  ?     Can  one  cultivate  it  ?     Can  one  be  a  Christian 

Lesson  :  Johu  sv.  Hymns  (Plj'mouth  Collection) :  Nos.  ai3.  424, 333. 


22  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

without  it  ?  And  yet,  lioAV  is  one  to  blame  if,  having  used  all  ordina- 
ry means — reading  and  prayer  —  it  still  does  not  come  to  him? 
These,  and  a  thousand  like  questions,  are  in  the  hearts  of  many,  and 
carry  perplexity. 

That  the  men  who  lived  with  Christ  should  have  loved  him  seems 
very  natural.  But  how  shall  we  who  have  nev^er  lived  with  him,  t® 
whom  he  is  an  imaginary  being,  love  him?  And  yet  it  stands  upon 
record  that  the  disciples,  after  he  went  from  them,  were  moved  wdth 
,  f ar  more  strength  of  affection  than  when  they  beheld  him.  His  jjre- 
sence  with  them  did  not  excite  so  strong  an  emotion  of  affection  as 
took  possession  of  them  after  he  was  gone.  The  imagined  and  the  in- 
visible had  more  power  upon  them,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  than  the  pre- 
sent and  the  visible.  To  be  sure,  one  may  say,  "  They  had  seen  him, 
however,  and  they  retained  the  image  and  the  memory."  But  Paul,  by 
far  the  most  intense  in  his  affection  of  any,  had  never  seen  the  Saviour 
except  in  a  miraculous  vision.  He  had  never  consorted  with  him. 
He  had  no  such  personal  acquaintance  as  these  others  had.  And  yet 
he  left  them  far  behmd  in  the  strength  of  his  affection  for  the  de- 
parted Saviour. 

It  is,  too,  an  unquestionable  fact  thq^  from  age  to  age  since  the  day 
of  Christ,  men  in  great  numbers  have  loved  an  unseen  and  absent  Sa- 
viour. It  has  been  a  strong  feeling — nay,  the  controlling  element  of 
their  life.  It  is  true  that  smgle  instances  are  found  in  all  heroic  na- 
tions of  men  that  have,  by  some  strong  feeling,  been  led  to  the  utmost 
self-denial,  to  the  utmost  achievement,  to  suffer  pain  for  long  periods 
of  time ;  but  multitudes  of  men,  consistently  and  together,  have  never 
been  insjDU'ed  except  under  Christian  influences  to  a  total  revolution 
of  their  lives  within  and  withovit.  Since  the  days  of  ouir  Saviour, 
there  is  not  one  thing  that  men  ever  did  that  is  right  which  they 
have  not  received  an  impulse  to  do  from  the  love  that  they  sustain  to 
an  unseen  but  a  believed  God.  In  ten  thousand  hearts  to-day  there  is 
a  sacred  flame  of  which  the  subject  has  no  more  doubt  than  he  has 
of  his  eye-sight.  There  are  here,  there  are  in  every,  worshiping 
Christian  congregation,  there  are,  I  fain  hope,  in  every  sect  in  the 
whole  great  band  of  Christendom,  those  who  know  that  they  do  not 
love  father  and  mother  more  than  they  love  God,  though  they  love 
them  differently.  There  are  multitudes  who,  much  as  they  love  their 
offsprmg,  know  that  their  children  are  not  dearer  to  them  than  the 
Saviour,  though  they  are  dear  in  a  different  way.  So  that  the  fact 
stands  recorded,  in  a  multiplicity  of  instances,  well  attested  by  men 
whom  you  believe  in  every  thing  else,  that  it  is  possible  to  love  Christ 
with  an  all-controlling  love,  though  you  have  never  seen  him,  though 
you  have  no  such  personal  acquaintance  with  him  as  you  are  able  to 
gain  and  to  maintain  among  your  fellow-men.     The  fact  that  your 


CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  23 

Saviour  is  susceptible  of  such  a  love  as  this  stands  almost  uncontradict- 
ed. It  is  the  knowledge  of  this  experience  in  others,  and  the  belief  that 
there  is  such  a  love  possible,  that  leads  men  into  difficulty.  Sincere 
moral  natures,  who  are  earnest  to  live  a  godly  life,  seeing  that  such  a 
thing  is  possible,  and  that  men  round  about  them  possess  it,  and  are 
greatly  rejoiced  in  its  possession,  put  the  question  to  themselves, 
"  Why  do  not  I  love  Christ  ?  I  wish  to ;  I  strive  to ;  I  read ;  I  pray ;  I 
take  every  method  that  is  within  my  knowledge ;  I  have  asked  my 
spiritual  advisers ;  I  have  asked  those  that  have  learned  the  way ;  and 
why  is  it  that  they  love,  and  I  can  not  ?  I  am  willing  to  give  up  any 
thing.  I  am  willing  to  do  any  thing.  If  I  have  miscarried  hitherto 
through  ignorance,  enlighten  me,  and  I  will  perform  that  which  is 
right."  There  are  a  great  many  sincere  natures  of  this  kind.  Some 
of  the  noblest  of  men,  some  of  those  who  are  the  truest  to  their  own 
aflections,  stand  saying,  "  Show  us  the  better  way,  and  we  will  enter 
upon  it."  They  pray  for  love.  They  say  in  themselves,  "  Love  is  a 
fire  that  no  man  has  and  is  ignorant  of.  This  is  a  penetratmg  ex- 
perience about  which,  if  a  man  has  it,  he  scarcely  can  be  in  any 
doubt."  Under  this  general  impression,  they  still  crave,  crave,  crave 
emotion — the  emotion  of  love ;  the  fire  of  the  Holy  Spirit  burning  on 
the  altar  of  their  souls.  They  even  come  to  believe  themselves  unre- 
generate  and  unspiritual,  because  never  have  they  had  the  flash  or 
flame  of  experience  such  as  others  have  in  this  direction.  Con- 
scientious in  purpose,  careful  ha  conduct,  earnest  in  sjDirit,  studi- 
ous evermore  of  right  ways,  hoping  yet  to  reach  an  experience  of  love, 
t>ut  never  attaining  to  that  hope,  they  live  under  a  cloud. 

But  if  they  knew  minutely  the  history  of  Christ,  two  things  would 
stand  out  from  the  analysis  of  the  experience  of  those  x'ound  about 
them :  first,  that  very  often  those  who  have  the  emotion  of  love  to 
Christ,  who  have  ecstatic  pleasure  in  the  view  of  Christ,  are  neither 
in  disposition  Christ-like  more  than  their  fellows,  nor  in  the  whole 
type  of  their  character  so  high  as  many  who  have  not  their  fervid 
experiences.  I  do  not  wish,  I  should  not  attempt,  to  lead  them 
to  think  that  it  was  a  matter  of  indifierence  whether  they  had 
fervid  Christian  emotion  as  such.  It  is  certainly  true  that  there  be 
many  persons  that  have  the  emotive  love  to  Christ  strongly  developed 
who  do  not  reach  as  high  in  Christian  experience  as  those  that  do  not 
have  it.     And  there  is  something  to  be  said  about  that. 

Secondly,  they  would  find  that  there  are  many  calm,  unemotive  na- 
tures wlio,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  do  really  live  nearer  to  Christ,  and  in 
an  miportant  sense  love  withovit  any  disclosive  emotions  of  love. 

This  would  seem  to  indicate  that  there  are  two  styles  of  Chris- 
tian character,  one  of  which  exists  with  emotive  love,  and  tlie  other 
without  it.     But  it  would  be  a  mistake  if  any  one  should  so  infei 


24  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

The  fact  that  there  are  these  two  general  types  of  experience  will 
throw  light  on  the  nature,  not  only  of  love,  but  of  all  feelings. 

Consider,  then,  first,  that  love  to  Christ,  spiritual  love,  is  the  love 
of  men's  higher  faculties.  It  is  not  such  a  love  as  we  have  to  our  com- 
panions, where  it  is  difficult  to  discriminate  how  much  the  senses 
add,  and  how  much  of  reason,  how  much  of  moral  sentiment,  how 
much  of  spiritual  sympathy,  and  how  much  of  the  auxiliary,  though 
interior  loves  of  the  body,  go  with  it.  There  is  no  corporeity  in 
the  divine  nature ;  and  we  do  not  love  with  the  body,  nor  with  any 
of  its  auxiliary  passions.  The  love  that  we  are  to  sustain  to  a  higher 
being  must  therefore  be  one  of  reason,  and  one  of  spirit — not  of  the 
passions  and  of  the  lower  nature.  It  more  resembles  a  child's  love 
for  its  jjarents.  When  that  child  has  grown  to  years  of  knowledge, 
aside  from  the  love  of  nourishing,  and  the  habit  which  comes  from 
loving  those  that  have  loved  us,  it  dawns  into  some  estimate  of  his 
father's  true  character,  and  his  mother's  royal  goodness.  You  can 
scarcely  conceive  of  any  affection  on  earth  that  is  more  pure,  more 
divested  of  selfishness,  and  more  entirely  a  sentiment  and  a  noble 
sentiment,  than  that  which  an  intelligent  child,  growing  up  into 
man's  estate,"  has  for  his  father  and  his  mothei\  And  I  apprehend 
that  the  love  which  the  soul  has  for  Christ  comes  nearer  to  this  than 
we  imagine,  and  that  there  is  more  meaning  than  lies  upon  the  sur- 
face of  it  when  we  are  told  that  we  must  become  as  little  cliildren, 
and  that  imless  we  become  like  them,  and  love  God  as  they  love  their 
parents,  we  can  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Consider,  too,  that  aside  from  the  explanation  which  this  different 
style  of  affection  casts  upon  the  experience,  all  mere  feeling — and 
that  is  what  people  are  striving  after — all  mere  emotion,  is  short- 
lived as  an  emotion.  Like  waves,  our  feelings  may  continue  by  re- 
peating themselves,  by  intermittent  rushes  ;  but  no  emotion,  any  more 
than  a  wave,  can  long  retain  its  own  individual  form.  It  must  sub- 
merge, and  come  up  again.  This  is  the  law  of  the  very  strongest 
natures.  A  part  of  the  divine  economy  in  the  human  mind  as  plainly 
indicated  as  any  other,  is,  that  feeling  can  not  exist  for  any  conside- 
rable length  of  time,  as  a  mere  pure  emotion. 

You  can  draw  a  stop  in  the  organ  and  pi-ess  any  note — for  in- 
stance, in  the  flute-stop — and  as  long  as  the  engine  below  shall  fur- 
nish wind  to  the  wind-chest,  so  long  that  dute  note  will  sound  forth. 
All  day,  and  all  night,  and  all  to-morrow,  it  will  continue  to  sound, 
if  you  keep  the  engine  going.  There  is  no  assignable  limit  to  what 
a  pipe  can  do.  But  men  are  not  pipes,  such  that  you  can  touch  a 
stop  of  feeling  in  the  human  soul  and  have  that  feeling  go  on  breath- 
ing like  an  organ-note  forever  and  forever.  So  no  one  ever  felt,  and 
BO  no  one  ever  will  feel.     If  ever  any  one  has  that  continued  feel- 


CONDUCT   TEE  INDEX  OF  FEELING.  25 

ing,  yon  may  be  sure  that  lie  is  on  the  turnpike  to  the  lunatic  asy 
lum.  The  very  name  that  we  give  to  one  form  of  insanity  is  mono- 
mania. In  other  words,  it  has  been  found  that  it  is  so  contrary  to 
the  nature  of  the  human  mind  for  any  emotion  to  continue  incessantly, 
that  when  by  disease  it  does  do  so  it  destroys  the  sanity  of  the 
mind  itself;  it  takes  the  balance  away  from  it ;  and  the  subjects  of 
it  are  candidates  for  medical  treatment.  They  are  monomaniacs.^  or 
under  the  dominion  of  one  single  feeling  which  is  acting  on  them 
continuously.  And  yet,  there  is  a  current  impression  that  if  a  man 
is  a  real  Christian,  and.  loves  Christ  once,  that  one  feeling  of  love  to 
Christ  will  shine  out  as  steadily  from  his  experience  as  the  sun  shines 
all  day  out  from  the  hemisphere  above.  They  do  not  stop  to  con- 
sider that  this  is  contrary  to  nature,  and  contrary  to  the  decree  of 
God.  No  feeling  can  be  unintermitted.  No  feeling  can  act  as  an 
emotion,  or  as  a  feeling,  except  for  a  little  time.  It  is  the  most 
exhausting,  the  most  wasteful,  of  all  modes  of  squandering  the  re- 
sources of  the  nervous  system. 

But  all  feelings  in  wholesome  natures  tend  instantly  to  some  form 
of  expression  or  action  ;  and  the  moment  a  feeling  takes  expression 
in  action  its  nature  changes.  It  is  transmuted.  Even  in  the  lowest 
ordinary  feelings,  and  in  uncultivated  natures,  a  strong  feeling  tends 
to  take  on  some  shape,  if  it  be  only  speech ;  or,  even  lower  than 
that,  inarticulate  sound.  The  outcries  of  savages,  the  oriental  tear- 
ings  of  hair,  and  of  the  garments — these  are  but  attempts  of  nature 
to  change  an  emotion  into  something  other  than  an  emotion  ;  to 
transmute  a  feeling.  When  it  is  transmuted,  it  ceases  to  exist  as  an 
emotion  ;  and  yet  the  faculty  is  not  impaired  after  the  feeling  is 
changed  into  something  else.  The  faculty  that  generates  feeling 
is  strengthened,  so  that  the  transmutation  be  normal  and  j^roj^er. 
Strong  feelings  with  no  outlet  become  diseased.  With  an  outlet, 
and  a  legitimate  expression,  they  relieve  themselves  of  the  emotion ; 
but  the  faculty  is  stronger  than  it  was  before.  This  is  a  mere  matter 
of  fact.  It  is,  a  very  important  element  in  philosophy,  because  it 
solves  a  great  many  questions  about  which  people  inquire  ;  as,  for 
instance,  why  it  is  wrong  to  read 'fictions.  It  is  not.  That  happens 
to  be  the  occasion.  It  i&  a  mere  external  condition  under  which  an- 
other state  of  facts  takes  place,  namely,  that  if  men  have  strong  feel- 
ings excited  in  them  for  a  long  time  which  they  do  not  transmute  into  any 
other  thing  than  an  emotion,  it  is  unhealthy.  Momentary  experiences 
of  strong  feelings  are  not  unwholesome.  On  the  contrary,  they  are 
frequently  cleansing  and  inspirational.  But  to  be  under  the  domi- 
nion of  emotions  for  any  considerable  time,  which  die  in  you  as 
emotions,  but  produce  nothing,  do  not  change  themselves  into  intel- 
lectual conditions,  do  not  change  themselves  into  volitions,  do  not 


26  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

change  themselves  into  courses  of  government — that  is  nnwholesorae. 
And  because  this  takes  place  in  reading  exciting  stories,  or  fictions, 
men  think  it  is  the  fiction  that  is  harmful.  It  is  just  as  bad  to  read 
newspapers,  (which  you  may  say  are  only  fictions  split  up  infinitely.) 
Reading  any  thing,  whether  it  be  history,  or  novels ;  whether  it  be 
moral  books,  or  the  most  entertaining  of  oriental  stories — whatever 
it  is — the  jDoint  is  not  that  it  is  fact  or  that  it  is  fiction  ;  but  it  is,  that 
any  thing  which  excites  deep  and  continuous  emotion,  giving  it  no 
chance  to  transmute  itself  into  intellection,  volition,  or  conduct,  in- 
jures the  mind  itself     That  is  the  point  of  difficulty. 

A  healthy,  normal  and  noble  affection  is  one  which  soonest  takes 
on  the  form  of  action,  and  soonest  loses  the  form  of  emotion.  So  far 
from  emotion  being,  then,  the  liighest  form,  it  is  but  the  initial  form. 
It  is  the  unripest  state.  And  the  moment  that  the  strong  feeling  is 
thoroughly  developed,  it  is  better  for  the  feeling,  and  better  for  you, 
that  it  should  instantly  cease  to  exist  as  an  emotion,  and  that  it 
should  reappear  in  some  other  mental  condition  or  quality. 

The  strength  and  the  purity  are  not  to  be  measured  by  the  nervous 
disturbance  which  exists  in  our  system.  Men  think  that  they  love  in 
proportion  as  they  feel  the  fire  of  love;  as  they  feel  their  pulse  quick- 
ened ;  as  they  feel  their  brain  flash  with  fire.  Men  think  that  they 
love  God  just  in  proportion  to  the  disturbance  and  the  exaltation  which 
they  have.  That,  however,  is  but  the  initial  condition  of  the  higher 
state.  Men  are  apt  to  think  that  they  are  intensely  Christians  when 
they  have  an  intense  emotion  of  any  Christian  kind.  They  forget 
that  the  emotion  is  but  the  beginning,  and  that  the  wholesomeness 
and  the  regularity  of  it,  and  the  benefit  of  it,  are  to  be  judged,  not 
by  the  intensity  of  the  beginning  of  the  feeling,  but  by  the  result 
of  that  feeling  when  it  has  gone  round  the  whole  circuit,  and  wrought 
itself  out  into  conduct,  thought,  and  purpose.  So  that  there  are  a 
great  many  persons  that  are  sent  oiF  like  rockets  at  the  touch,  almost, 
of  religious  teaching.  Men  there  are  whom  a  hymn  will  set  almost  spi- 
ritually drunk.  Hymns  which  come  sighing  through  ^he  passages  of 
memory  to  them,  and  in  which  they  hear  the  voices  of  father  and 
mother,  and  brethren  and  friends  beloved ;  hymns  that  lift  the  soul 
up  into  the  memory  of  all  the  assemblies  •  in  which  they  have  been 
sung — to  sensitive  natures,  to  moral  natures,  such  hymns  frequently 
give  wings  by  which  they  fly  away  so  high  that  they  forget  to  come 
back  again  to  the  ground  and  perform  their  duties.  They  sing  them- 
selves into  the  air,  and  there  they  stay.  I  have  seen  persons  that  had 
so  exhausted  themselves  by  religious  emotions  that  they  had  no 
streno;th  left  for  relictious  duties. 

Every  particle  of  feeling  that  you  have  more  than  you  can  reduce 
to  conduct  and  volition  is  so  much  surplusage.    An  engineer  wants 


CONDUCT   TEE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  27 

to  have  head  of  steam  enough  ;  but  he  knows  very  well  that  if  he 
has  so  much  that  be  is  obliged  to  throw  it  off  at  the  whistle,  at  the 
safety-valve,  and  at  the  smoke-stack,  he  is  racking  the  engine  use- 
lessly. Five  pounds  more  steam  than  you  want  is  five  pounds  against 
you — not  five  pounds  for  you.  Some  men  are  so  constituted  that  the 
least  touch  of  feeling  sets  them  all  aflight.  They  are  unfortunate 
until  by  training  they  can  reduce  emotion  to  some  more  useful  and 
practical  result  than  merely  emotion.  But  that  is  not  the  current 
impression.  People  think  that  that  is  the  Christian  who  lies  back 
in  his  chair  and  has  glorious  visions  and  experiences.  "  Oh  !  such  a 
good  time,  such  a  joyful  time,  as  I  have  had !"  a  man  says.  "Well, 
let  me  see  him  a  day  or  two  afterward,  and  I  can  tell  better  whether 
it  is  a  genuine  Christian  experience  or  not. 

Here  is  a  man  that  has  had  a  quarrel.  He  never  has  lost  a 
chance  to  say  an  ugly  thing,  or  to  have  an  ugly  thing  said  against 
him ;  and  his  wife  and  children  have  taken  it  up ;  and  here  is 
a  set  of  families  that  have  warm  times.  They  are  as  spiteful 
as  cats  and  dogs,  and  they  throw  sparks  like  a  blacksmith's 
forge  all  the  time.  And  yet  this  man  is  a  roaring  good  Chris- 
tian. He  goes  to  meeting.  There  is  a  revival ;  and  his  reli- 
gious feelings  are  all  aglow.  And  it  is  all  right.  He  does  feel 
jiist  as  he  says  he  does.  There  is  no  hypocrisy  in  his  profession. 
He  takes  his  hymn-book,  and  the  minister  hajopens  to  be  fortunate, 
and  the  hymn  comes  right  home,  and  circumstances  concur,  and  the 
electric  influences  are  favorable,  and  the  meeting  is  a  joyous  one,  and 
he  won't  go  home  until  twelve  o'clock.  He  has  sung  twenty  hymns ; 
and  he  does  feel  as  though  he  could  not  keep  himself  on  the  ground. 
"  A  little  more,  Lord,'^  he  says,  "  and  I  shall  fly  away."  Now,  I  want 
to  see  if  to-morrow  he  will  go  to  that  neighbor,  and  say,  "  Look 
here,  my  dear  fellow,  we  are  wrong — at  any  rate  I  aim,  whether  you 
are  or  not.  I  have  been  ugly.  Forgive  me.  I  had  such  a  good* 
time  last  night,  that  I  must  clean  my  heart.  My  pride  must  come 
down,-my  vanity  must  come  down,  and  I  must  be  reconciled  to  you." 
He  did  have  a  good  time,  and  that  is  the  sign  that  the  feeling  Avhich 
he  experienced  was  genuine.  That  he  roared  his  hymns  joyfully  was 
no  sign  of  it ;  that  he  had  an  ecstasy  of  prayer  was  no  sign  of  it ; 
but  that,  having  that  elevation,  he  changed  it  to  a  moral  pm'pose ; 
that  out  of  that  feeling  he  wrought  garments  of  duty ;  that  out  of 
that  experience  he  came  back  to  his  fellow-men  more  sympathetic, 
more  gentle,  more  humble,  more  Christlike — ah  !  that  was  a  sign  that 
the  feeling  was  a  genuine  one.  Otherwise  it  would  have  been  sim- 
ply a  sign  of  self-indulgence.  A  man  that  takes  his  excess  of 
moral,  social,  and  religious  excitement,  to  raise  the  tone  of 
his  moral  and  emotive  feelings,  is  just  as  dissipated  as  if  he  raised 


28  CONDUCT  THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

the  tone  of  his  physical  feelings  by  physical  stimulants.  I  am 
not  instituting  a  comparison  as  to  which  is  the  better  and  which  is 
the  worse.  I  merely  say  that  one  is  intemperance  just  as  much  as 
the  other,  though  one  is  grosser  than  the  other,  and  is  more  disas- 
trous in  undoing  the  very  structure  of  the  body  itself.  And  men 
ought  to  be  made  to  understand  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  moral 
intoxication,  and  that  a  man  can  take  a  religious  feeling,  and  that  he 
can — what  shall  I  say  ? — imbibe  and  imbibe,  and  imbibe,  for  no  other 
reason  than  because  it  feels  so  good.  It  is  a  self-indulgence.  It  is  a 
luxury — a  higher  luxury,  to  be  sure.  And  he  imbibes,  and  imbibes, 
and  is  more  joyful.  He  is  not  a  better  man  ;  but  he  is  a  much  hap- 
pier man.  And  he  imbibes,  and  imbibes,  until  by  and  by  he  swigs, 
and  swigs,  and  swigs ;  and  the  man  is  besotted.  I  have  seen  men 
that  were  literally  debauched  at  the  top  of  their  brain,  and  who  had 
gone  into  a  systematic  self-indulgence.  They  never  were  hapjjy  ex- 
cept under  circumstances  where  they  had  this  peculiar  form  of  enjoy- 
ing themselves. 

If  I  found  that  the  whole  form  of  this  enjoyment  was  a  mighty 
spring  that  was  pressing  them  toward  self-denial  for  the  sake  of  their 
fellow-men ;  if  I  found  that  it  was  scouring  their  morals  white  as  snow ; 
if  I  found  that  it  was  multiplying  the  avenues  of  their  usefulness ; 
if  I  found  that  they  were  gentle  and  meek  in  folloAving  Christ — then 
I  should  say  that  there  was  no  debauch  there,  that  there  was  no  moral 
intemperance  there.  Feeling  which,  beginnmg  as  feeling,  has  transmu- 
ted itself  into  life  and  conduct,  and  has  become  wholesome — that  is 
genuine  piety ;  that  is  true  Christian  character ;  but  the  mere  feeling 
without  the  transmutation  is  nothing  of  the  kmd,,and  it  is  not  desira- 
ble. If  it  is  not  going  to  be  transmuted  into  any  thing  but  emotion,  it 
is  not  only  an  undesirable  thing,  but  it  is  a  dangerous  thing. 

Let  us  take  instances  that  are  familiar  to  us  in  common  life.  A 
man  sits  in  his  door,  and  sees  a  bully  abusing  a  child  that  is  weak, 
gentle,  mild  and  meek;  and  the  man  is  terrifically  indignant;  he  fair- 
ly swears  with  rage,  to  see  such  an  abominable  bully  abuse  such  a 
helpless,  nice  boy.  A  very  staid  and  quiet  apprentice  in  a  shop  near 
by  witnesses  the  occurrence.  He  does  not  feel  half  so  much  indigna- 
tion, but  he  drops  his  tools,  and  claps  on  his  paper  cap,  and  rushes 
out  into  the  street,  and  knocks  that  bully,  and  sends  him  sprawling  to 
the  ground ;  and  when  three  or  four  of  the  bully's  companions  come 
out  to  help  him,  the  apprentice  stjuares  up  to  them,  and  appalls  the 
whole  of  them,  and  he  rescues  that  boy.  I  should  like  to  know 
which  of  these  two  men  felt  indignation  best  and  most  salutary.  One 
felt  it  in  his  heart,  and  the  other  felt  it  in  \\\^fist.  In  one  it  took  on  the 
form  of  helpless  protest — the  form  of  lazy  indignation  in  a  lazy  man. 
And  so  he  sat  and  reeked  with  indignation.     The  other  man  transmu- 


CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  29 

ted  his  indignation  into  a  fire  wliich  carried  him  out  and  made  him 
the  champion  and  protector  of  the  weak,  and  the  punisher  of  ''^e  op- 
pressor, I  say  that  the  last  feeling  was  the  healthy  feeling — tiie  feel- 
ing that  took  on  the  form  of  action  instantly. 

Take  the  case  of  men  that  felt  for  then-  flag  in  the  great  conflict. 
In  the  North  there  were  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  that  told  us 
they  loved  the  flag  ;  yes,  they  revered  the  flag.  When  it  was  dese- 
crated, and  hung  trailing  in  shame  under  assault  from  intestine  ti'ea- 
son,  what  did  they  ?  Nothing.  Still  they  revered  the  flag  !  Hun- 
dreds, thousands,  millions,  perhaps,  there  were  who  had  less  feeling, 
but  who  took  their  musket,  and,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  went  into 
the  field.  They  showed  what  they  thought  of  the  flag  by  what  they 
did,  or  what  they  sufiered. 

But  do  you  tell  me  that  a  man  who  patiently,  and  without  any 
overflow  of  patriotic  feeling,  did  his  duty  right  straight  through  the 
war  did  not  have  any  feeling  ?  He  had  feeling ;  but  it  transmuted  it- 
self into  action.  And  was  not  that  a  great  deal  better  form  of  feeling 
than  feeling  with  no  action  sequent  upon  it  ?  Here  are  in  a  great 
battle  thousands  of  men  wounded  and  scattered  all  over  the  fleld ; 
and  the  calmest,  the  coolest,  the  most  unfeeling  men  on  the  whole 
ground  are  the  surgeons.  Pale,  cold,  are  they.  They  are  perfectly  col- 
lected. Their  voice  does  not  tremble.  They  are  decisive,  and  at 
times  almost  fierce.  "What  is  it?  Do  not  they  feel  humanity? 
Probably  there  is  no  man  on  the  whole  ground  that  feels  it  so  much. 
But  the  intensity  of  their  feeling  transmutes  itself  into  instant  activi- 
ty. And  the  sign  that  they  feel  is  what  they  are  going  through,  or 
what  they  are  doing.  There  is  no  room  for  more  feelmg.  They 
change  it  into  the  better  form  in  which  feeling  should  always  seek  to 
develop  itself. 

The  plague-stricken  city  has  a  great  many  persons  that  ara  senti- 
mentally afiected  by  the  sufierings  of  the  poor;  a  great  many  that 
feel  very  much  for  the  poor ;  and  the  feeling  is  expended  in  "  Ohs !" 
and  "  Ahs !"  of  persons  that  are  getting  ready  with  all  their  might  to 
go  ofi"  into  the  country. 

Then  there  is,  next  to  them,  another  and  a  better  class,  that  feel 
great  compassion  for  the  suff'erings  of  the  plague-stricken  city ;  and 
while  they  are  going  off  to  the  country,  they  set  apart  five  hundi-ed 
or  a  thousand  dollars  to  alleviate  those  sufferings.  They  buy  them- 
selves the  liberty  of  going  off.  There  is  a  slight  transmutation  of  feel- 
ing, by  as  much  as  they  were  generous,  and  changed  an  emotion  into 
an  act.  « 

But  here  was  a  poor  simple  creature,  that  never  dreamed  of  going 
off,  and  went  to  the  physician  and  said,  "I  am  expert  as  a  nurse  ; 
"'♦t  me  go  down  among  the  poor,  to  those  that  have  nobody  to  look 


^0  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

fter  them.  And  so,  niglit  and  day,  with  simplicity,  she  carries  a 
heerful  foce  and  a  helpful  hand ;  always  calm,  never  excited,  but  earn- 
est in  good  work.  Do  not  you  suj)pose  that  she  had  more  feeling, 
though  she  showed  less,  than  either  of  the  others?  Did  she  not  con- 
vert feeling  into  conduct  just  as  fast  as  it  was  generated?  And  was 
not  that  the  reason  that  it  did  not  overswell  and  flow  back  into  the 
form  of  mere  emotion  ? 

There  is,  then,  what  might  be  called  latent  emotion,  or  rather  a 
form  in  which  the  disposition  and  the  emotions  can  show  themselves, 
not  by  mere  nervous  vibrations,  but  by  being  transmuted  into  a  nobler 
and  better  shape. 

Go  back,  now,  to  the  chapter  from  which  I  selected  my  text — for 
I  read  a  part  ©f  that  chapter  on  purpose  that  I  might  illustrate  this 
point.  Do  you  notice  how  many  times  our  Saviour  says,  "  If  ye  love 
me,  keep  my  commandments  "?  It  is  as  if  a  child  should  rush  pas- 
sionately to  its  mother  and  throw  its  little  arms  around  her  neck  and 
hug  her,  and  say  convulsively,  "  O  mother !  I  do  love  you  so !" 
"  Well,  my  dear  child,  if  you  do,  why  are  you  not  a  better  child  ?" 
How  many  times  is  that  heard  in  the  family  !  Our  Saviour  said  the 
same  thing.  "  If  ye  love  me,  do  not  suppose  that  that  is  love  which 
goes  off  into  an  enthusiasm,  an  emotion,  a  paroxysm,  a  flash  of  joyous 
feeling.  That  is  very  well ;  but  if  you  love  me,  let  your  feelings  take 
on  the  shajDe  of  life,  disposition,  conduct."  And  afterward,  how 
many  times  was  it  said  by  his  apostles,  in  various  shapes,  that  the 
evidence  that  we  love  Christ  is  that  we  love  the  brethren  ;  that  we 
keep  the  commandments.  "  But  if  a  man  has  feeling,  will  not  you 
know  it  by  the  fact  that  it  is  feeling  ?"  No,  not  if  he  changes  it  so 
fast  into  conduct  and  disposition  that  that  is  the  way  in  which  it  is 
showing  itself  more  than  in  any  other. 

He,  then,  that  loves  Christ  aright  may  come  from  either  direction. 
A  man  that  loves  Christ  aright  may  be  so  organized  that  he  shall 
love  Christ  naturally  and  easily — and  that  is  a  mere  accident,  if  I 
may  so  say.  There  is  no  virtue  in  your  organization,  so  far  as  you 
are  concei-ned.  If  you  inherit  a  good  organization,  an  organization 
peculiarly  sensitive  in  the  direction  of  emotion,  it  is  no  credit  to  you 
that  your  emotions  come  quick  and  are  overflowing.  If  with  this 
joyous  organization  you  are  so  wise  as  to  change  feeling  continually 
mto  disposition,  volition,  and  self-denying  conduct ;  if  you  take  the 
^xarajile  of  Christ  and  pattern  your  conduct  on  it,  and  jjut  all  your 
leeiing  in  the  shape  of  emotive  power  to  control  you  in  that  Christ- 
like life,  then  you  will  have  come  into  the  possession  of  his  spirit ; 
it  will  have  been  perfected  in  you,  coming  from  the  side  of  disclosive 
emotion.  But  there  are,  at  the  other  extreme,  persons  who  are  nat- 
urally slow  of  feeling ;  persons  in  whom  caution  is  strong ;  persons  in 


CONDUCT   TEE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  8^ 

whom  reason  predominates  over  feeling  ;  persons  avIio  do  not  go  by 
their  emotions  first,  but  who  have  taken  a  calm  survey  of  the  ground, 
and  say  "  I  am  commanded,  as  a  token  of  love,  and  as  a  fruit  of  love, 
to  obey  the  laws  of  the  Saviour ;  I  am  to  imitate  his  disposition  ;  I  am 
to  larry  his  spirit ;  I  am  to  work  out  in  my  life  just  what  he  worked 
out  in  his  life;  and  although  I  have  not  any  great  feeling,  I  have 
feeling  enough  to  tell  me  what  to  do,  and  how  I  ought  to  do  it." 
And  they  begin  to  act  as  men  with  more  feeling  act. 

•  Two  results  follow.  First,  Christian  character  follows ;  and 
secondly,  it  is  a  philosophical  fact  that  if  you  perform  the  actions 
that  spring  from  a  certain  feeling,  the  feeling  itself  will  come  by  and 
by.  You  can  develop  conduct  from  feeling ;  and  you  can  also  de- 
velop feeling  from  conduct.  The  man  who  begins  to  imitate  Christ 
reverently,  childlikely,  and  continuously,  will  by  and  by  begin  to  feel 
that  he  has  the  emotion  of  love  as  well  as  the  fruit  of  love.  The 
fruit  is  more  important,  the  emotion  being  latent  in  the  first  instance, 
developing  itself  only  as  a  motive  pressing  him  to  right  thought, 
right  feeling,  and  right  conduct.  By  a  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing the  emotion  will  grow,  so  that  by  and  by  the  man  who  had 
only  emotional  life  and  conduct  will  begin  to  feel  that  while  he  is 
feeling  as  a  Christian,  he  should  also  begin  to  live  as  a  Christian, 

Sometimes  the  light  surprises  a  Christian,  as  he  sings.  Or,  by 
and  by,  a  man  that  is  living  in  the  performance  of  Christian  duty 
will  begin  to  have  intuitions,  revelations,  as  it  were,  of  his  higher 
nature.     And  this  is  the  safer  way. 

I  have  tried  to  popularize  as  far  as  I  could,  or  make  intelligible, 
rather,  a  somewhat  subtle,  metaphysical  doctrine. 

Let  me  still  further  carry  this  home,  if  I  have  made  you  under- 
stand it,  as  I  trust  I  have,  by  a  few  more  practical  and  broader  appli- 
cations. 

First,  let  such  questions  as  these  be  used  to  determine  your  state 
'p  a  Christian  life:   Am  I  willing  to  accept  Christ's  commands  ?    Am 
•filling,  therefore,  to  find  out  what  they  are  ?  Am  I  sincerely,  every 
\iy,'^eeking  to  frame  my  disposition  according  to  his  commands? 
vm  I  moulding  my  life  to  benevolence  and  not  to  selfishness  ?     Do 
.  imitate  Christ's  example  ?     Do  I  practically  trust  him  ?     Do  I  trust 
Hs   daily  providence?     Do  I  put  my  care  upon  him ?     Do  I  every 
3ay  endeavor,  so  far  as  I  have  light,  to  act  in  such  a  way  that  if 
Ohrist  were  present  with  ma  he  would  have  occasion  to  know  that  I 
■vas  trying  to  be  like  him  ?    I  do  not  ask  persons  to  measure  them- 
selves, as  too  frequently  they  do,  by  the  falsest  and  the  foolishest  of 
all    measures — the   ideal   standard.     What   would   you   think   of  a 
schoolmaster  who  should  be  always  talking  to  the  abecedarians  in  the 
schoo    ibout  Newton,  and  Bacon,  and  Spinoza,  and  Raphael,  and 


32  CONDUCT   TEE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

Michael  Angelo,  that  were  removed  by  a  space  of  forty  years  from 
the  child  ?     If  the  child  is  learning  his  letters — his  A  B  C's — liow  ab- 
surd it  would  be  to  ask  him  to  read  in  Cicero,  or  to  test  him  on  one 
of  Chatham's  speeches !     All  tests  are  relative  to  the  state  and  the  con- 
dition in  which  the  person  is  to  whom  they  are  applied.   And  it  is  un- 
wise for  a  young  Christian  that  is  just  beginning  a  Christian  life  to 
take  the  ideal  perfection  that  belonged  to  Paul,  after  an  experience 
of  forty  years,  and  say,  "  I  am  not  a  Christian  because  I  have  not 
such  feelings,  and  Paul  had."       Yes ;  and  how  long  was  it  before 
he  got  them  ?     It  took  him  a  whole  lifetime  to  earn  them — and  un- 
der peculiar  circumstances,   too.      If  a   person   can   say,  *'I   take 
pains  to  know  what  my  duty  is  in  Christ  Jesus;     I  take  pains  to 
study  his  life  and  his  word,  and  I  am  trying,"  that  is  enough  to  start 
upon.     It  is  the  trying  that  is  most  essential  then.      It  is  not  the 
perfection  of  your  work.     Am  I  not  a  painter  because  my  pictures 
are  poor,  if  I  am  trying  to  make  them  better  ?     Am  not  I  a  speaker 
because  my  speeches  are  short  and  less  than  eloquent,  if  I  am  trying? 
Am  not  I  a  scholar  if  I  study  night  and  day,  though  I  have  not  made 
any  great  attainments  yet  ?     Am  I  not  a  follower  of  my  country's 
flag,  though  I  be  lame,  though  I  follow  at  a  distance,  if  still  I  make 
use  of  all  the  strength  I  have,  and  see  which  way  the  army  went, 
and  follow  on,  even  fifty  miles  behind  ?     And  if  a  man  takes  the 
example  of  Christ's   life,  and   spreads  that  before  him,  and  says, 
"  Lord  Jesus,  this  is  what  I  mean  to  be,  and  mean  to  do,"  and  goes 
to  work  at  it,  inside  and  out,  and  tries  day  by  day,  is  he  not  a  Chris- 
tian ?  ■  What  if  you  do  fail  and  come  short  here  ?     What  if  you  are 
carried  away  by  temptation  there  ?     You  are  trying,  and  are  trying 
on  an  intelligent  basis.     You  have  a  right  standard — namely,  Christ, 
who  loves  you,  and  sympathizes  with  you,  and  is  helj^ing  you ;  you 
are  following  after  him,  and  you  mourn  where  you  come  short;  and 
though  for  a  moment  you  are  discouraged,  you  pluck  up  your  courage 
again,  and  try  once  more,  and  say,  "  I  know  it  is  the  right  way ;  it  is 
the  right  character ;  it  is  the  only  thing  becoming ;  and  whatever  I  find 
to  do  I  will  do,  and  I  will  try  to  persevere,"   And  you  are  a  Christian. 
When  Christ  called  persons  to  be  his  discij)les,  what  did  he  say  ? 
Translated  into  our  modern  language,  he  said,  "  Come  and  be  my 
scholars ;"  or,  as  in  the  text  of  last  Sunday  morning,  "  Come  unto 
me;  learn  of  me:  I  have  opened  a  school  for  morah  character  and  good 
conduct.     Who  wants  to  join  my  school  ?"     One  applies  for  admis- 
sion, and  another,  and  another,  and  Christ  i>uts  them  into  the  school- 
house  and  commences  teaching  them.     Some  he  puts  into  tlie  alpha- 
bet ;  some  are  able  to  read  easy  words ;  and  some  are  still  further 
along.     And  he  classifies  his  school,  and  each  class  is  tried  by  the 
standard  which  belongs  to  himself.      Every  man  is  practiced  in  the 


CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  33 

thing  in  which  he  needs  practice.  The  great  trouble  is  to  Christian- 
ize pride  in  some  men.  In  other  men  it  is  avarice.  In  others  it  is 
the  passions  and  appetites.  In  others  it  is  a  certain  low  state  of  mind 
— a  sort  of  carnal,  sensuous  condition,  all  the  way  through.  What- 
ever it  is,  the  good  Master  takes  the  scholar  that  conies  into  his 
school,  and  drills  him  by  his  providence  and  his  spirit  in  the  thing 
that  he  most  needs  to  be  drilled  in.  And  the  evidence  that  you  are 
following  Christ  is,  that  you  are  there  in  his  school,  and  are  being 
drilled,  and  are  trying  to  obey  the  teachings  of  your  Master;  You 
are  Christ's  scholars  if  you  are  under  his  training.  You  may  be 
a  very  poor  scholar — most  of  us  are  poor  scholars — but  you  may 
be  better,  having  learnt  to  be  better;  or,  you  may  be  very  good. 
The  lowest  and  the  least  is  a  scholar,  if  his  name  is  on  the  roll,  and 
he  has  begun  to  receive  instruction.  The  uncombed,  ragged  little 
wretch,  that  has  hardly  got  off  from  the  briny  sea,  having  come  from 
the  Emerald  Isle,  and  that  goes  into  the  mistress's  school,  and  begins  to 
fumble  the  book,  though  he  never  saw  the  inside  of  a  book  before,  and 
begins  to  learn,  is  a  scholar  just  as  much  as  the  boy  that  is  reaching 
c«t  his  hand  to  take  his  dij)loma  and  go  to  the  next  higher  school. 
He  is  a  scholar,  though  he  has  the  bu.lk  of  his  learning  yet  to  acquire 
And  so  it  is  with  following  Christ.  Whoever  will  go  to  the  Word  of 
God,  where  four  pi«tures  open — Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John  ; 
whoever  will  read  the  life  of  Christ  just  as  you  would  read  the  life  of 
any  other  person,  and  follow  that,  he  is  a  Christian. 

Oh  !  how  foolish  people  are,  that  are  wise  in  every  thing  else,  when 
they  come  to  religion !  I  should  like  you  to  bring  me  back  an  account 
of  a  house.  You  think  of  renting  one.  I  will  desci-ibe  the  way  in 
which  you  will  bring  back  an  account  of  that  house,  if  you  do  it  as 
you  read  the  Bible.  You  go  to  the  front-door  and  look  at  it,  and 
come  back  and  say  to  me,  "  That  house  is  on  Smith  Street ;  it  has  a 
front-door,  two  lower  windows,  two  basement  windows,  three  second- 
story  windows  and  an  attic."  "  Well !"  I  say,  "  what  else  ?"  "  I 
did  not  go  in."  "  But  go  back  and  tell  me  something  about  the  house. 
That  is  only  telling  about  the  exterior  of  it."  Back  you  go,  and  bring 
to  me  now  a  sliver  taken  from  one  of  the  shutters — just  as  people 
Vke  a  single  text  in  the  morning — and  say,  "There  is  so  much  of 
.-.e  iouse."  I  say,  "  You  fool !"  I  send  you  back  again,  and  you 
brin^  me  a  whole  armful  of  bricks.  This  time  you  have  brought  a  good 
deal  :r  ore  of  the  house  than  you  brought  before.  But  if  a  man  were 
to  go  '.  r:.  ir.  that  way  forming  the  idea  of  a  house,  and  bringing  it  to 
me,  w<  Aid  l.e  ever  get  through  ?  Ought  he  not  to  go  to  the  lunatic 
Esylur- 

That  is  precisely  your  condition.     That  is  just  the  way  you  read 
the  Bible.     You  get  up  in  the  morning,  and  you  say,  "  It  is  the  calm 


34  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

of  the  morning,  and  I  am  going  over  into  the  city  Avhere  I  shall  be 
tempted,  and  I  must  read  a  little  before  I  start."  You  do  not  know 
exactly  where  you  will  read  ;  but  you  must  read  somewhere.  So  you 
turn  over  the  leaves  at  random.  You  ha23pen  to  stoj)  in  .the  Book  of 
Acts.  When  you  have  read  eight  or  ten  or  twelve  verses,  you  think 
you  will  stop.  Then  you  say  to  yourself,  "  This  is  rather  pinching 
the  matter ;  the  chapter  is  not  very  long,  so  I  guess  I  will  read  to 
the  end."  The  next  day,  quite  having  forgotten  what  you  read 
festerday,  you  read  a  chapter  near  the  beginning  of   the  Gospels. 

5ut  you  do  not  go  back  to  that  sf)ot  for  months.     You  do  not  join 

vhat  you  read  on  to  what  you  have  read. 

Suppose  a  man  should  read  the  life  of  Washington  as  you  read 
'he  life  of  Christ ;    suppose  yon  should  begin  the  first  of  January  to 

ead  the  introditctory,  and  read  an  account  of  Washington's  parents, 
xnd  lay  the  book  aside,  and  not  touch  it  again  till  two  years  after- 
ward, and  then  say,  "  I  am  reading  that  life ;"  suppose  that  then 
you  should  read  half  a  page  more ;  suppose  that  a  month  or  two 
afterward,  you  should  read  a  little  more ;  and  suppose,  after  you 
have  forgotten  that,  you  should  read  a  few  paragraphs  more ;  and 
suppose  a  few  months  later,  having  become  tired  of  reading  by 
course,  you  should  begin  at  the  other  end,  and  read  a  j^aragraph  there ; 
and  supjDOse  that,  after  a  while,  you  should  turn,  to  the  middle,  and 
read  something  there ;  suppose  you  should  continually  skip  about, 
reading  a  little  here,  and  a  little  there;  what  would  you  know 
about  Washington  ?  If  you  were  asked  what  you  knew  of  him,  you 
could  say  that  he  was  a  great  man ;  and  that  would  be  about  all 
you  would  know  about  him. 

Who  could  form  any  conception  of  a  man's  character  in  the  way  in 
which  you  are  attempting  to  form  a  conception  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ's  character  ?  Is  the  Bible  a  string  of  gold  beads  each  of  which 
has  an  intrinsic  value  ?  Is  it  like  a  cluster  of  diamonds,  in  which  every 
diamond  has  an  intrinsic  value  ?  It  is  true  that  there  is  an  intrinsic 
value  in  many  parts  of  Scripture;  but  the  life  of  Christ  has  a  distinct 
ive  object,  four  times  repeated  that  men  need  not  make  a  mistake. 
Your  soul  turns  on  the  knowledge  that  you  have  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
if  any  man  would  know  how  to  love  Christ,  and  how  to  become  like 
him,  and  how  to  follow  him,  he  must  take  him  in  the  wholeness  of 
the  picture.  If  a  man  I'eads  his  Tribune  or  his  Times  before  break- 
fast, he  reads  more  than  the  whole  evangel  of  Matthew.  You  can 
read  the  evangel  of  Matthew  in  less  time  than  you  can  sit  down  and 
read  a  modern  newspaper.  If  a  man  should  take  a  whole  evangel, 
and  read  it  through  at  one  time,  he  Avould  say,  "That  is  rather  over 
doing  the  matter."  And  yet,  the  true  way  to  read  the  life  of  Christ 
is  to  take  in  the  full  portraiture  ;  to  look  at  the  Avhole  picture;  to 


CONDUCT   THE  INDEX  OF  FEELING.  35 

bring  the  whole  character  up  clearly  before  the  mind.  No  person 
can  form  a  distinct  conception  of  the  Saviour,  as  he  is  in  the  heavenly 
laud,  until  he  gets  the  data,  the  basis,  from  the  history  of  what  he 
was  in  his  earthly  estate.  When  you  have  read  so  as  to  get  a  clear 
conception  of  the  Master,  of  his  truths,  of  his  dispositions,  and  of  his 
commandments,  then  you  begin  to  show  that  you  love  him  by  making 
yourself  like  him  ;  and  the  measure  of  your  love  to  him  will  be  found 
in  tl*e  measure  in  which  you  overcome  easily  besetting  sins. 

There  is  a  man — I  have  one  in  my  mind — who  had  all  his  life  been 
an  exceedingly  narrow,  an  excessively  small,  a  pinchingly  avaricious 
man.  He  falls  in  love  Avith  a  stately  and  royal  Avoman,  and  marries 
her,  to  the  amazement  and  confoundation  of  every  body  that  knows 
them.  People  say,  "  What  on  earth  possessed  that  woman  to  marry 
that  man  ?" 

Nobody  wonders  that  he  married  her ;  but  it  is  like  a  pigmy  sitting 
on  a  royal  throne.  Gradually  he  begins  to  be  more  noble.  .  And 
though  it  is  a  task  for  a  sparrow  to  fly  like  an  eagle,  yet  he  begins  to 
fly  in  larger  circuits ;  and  this  man  begins  to  remit  his  stinginess  and 
to  throw  out  certain  traits  of  generosity  here  and  there.  And  in  the 
course  of.  twenty  years  he  is  known  in  all  New-England  as  a  most 
princely  merchant  and  as  a  most  generous  man.  That  little  white- 
^aced  man,  feeble  of  understanding,  was  made  mighty  by  the  de- 
yelojiing  power  of  love.  And  if  he  should  take  that  changed  life, 
and  his  reputation,  and  lay  them  down  at  the  feet  of  his  wife,  and 
say,  "  There,  my  dear,  is  the  measure  of  my  love  for  you,"  could  there 
ever  be  such  a  noble  commentary  as  that  ? 

Now,  when  you  are  called  to  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  not 
that  you  may  fly  away  with  fugitive  feelings,  momentary  exj^erieuces. 
Take  the  frame-work  of  a  right,  godly  love,  of  a  gentle,  humble, 
meek,  sweet  character  and  life,  and  lay  it  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  saymg, 
"  There,  Lord,  now  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee."  You  remember 
how  the  Saviour  tried  Peter:  "Lovest  thou  me?"  "Lord,  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee."  "  Feed  my  sheep."  "  Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
lovest  thou  me  more  than  these  ?"  "  Yea,  Lord,  thou  knowest  that  I 
love  thee."  "Feed  my  lambs."  Do  something.  "He  saith  unto 
him  the  third  time,  Simon,  lovest  thou  me  ?  Peter  was  grieved  be- 
cause he  said  unto  him  the  third  time,  Lovest  thou  me  ?  And  he  said 
unto  him,  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee. 
Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Feed  my  sheep."  Those  three  short  answers, 
were  all  the  satisfaction  Peter  got.  It  is  veri/  well  to  feel — that  is 
the  interpretation  of  it — buf  let  me  see  you  do,  and  then  I  xoill  ac- 
cept it. 

I  pass  by  a  second  application,  cautioning  us  against  the  substitu- 
tion of  feeling  for  actual  experience,  and  will  only  add  one  other- 


46  CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

namely,  that  while  there  are  many  who  begin  their  Christian  life  with 
a  very  vivid  and  well-imagined  concej^tion  of  Christ,  there  are  very 
many  who  must  begin  then-  Christian  life  with  a  comparatively  vague 
and  indistinct  image  of  Christ  in  their  minds.  If  God  has  given  you 
the  formative  power  of  imagination,  and  you  have  been  well  bred  and 
1  instructed,  the  probability  is  that  when  you  begin  a  Christian  life,  there 
will  evermore  hang  before  you  some  clear  and  bright  conception  of 
Christ,  that  will  make  your  life  easy.  But  there  are  many  pei^ons 
who  are  attempting  to  be  Christ-like,  and  find  it  very  hard  to  frame  an 
idea  of  Christ,  and  to  pray  to  it,  or  to  think  of  it. 

See  how,  in  actual  exj^erience,  this  condition  of  facts  is  apt  to  work. 
For  a  year  or  two  your  progress  is  imsatisf ying.  You  are  conscien- 
tiously endeavoring  to  be  Christ-like — that  is,  to  frame  in  yourself 
Christ's  dispositions.  But  still  you  complain  that  your  Christ  is 
vague,  nebulous.  But  by  and  by,  when  you  realize  the  disi)Osition 
of  Christ,  there  wnll  begin  to  spring  out  of  your  own  interior  a  perso- 
nal experience — a  clear  conception  of  the  divine  attributes  in  Christ 
Jesus.  And  little  by  little  there  will  be  the  reflex  of  your  own  living, 
and  it  will  hang  out  before  you,  so  that  gradually  your  idea  of  Christ 
^^ill  become  more  fervid,  more  imaginative.  Having  first  realized  it, 
and  then  idealized  it,  and  personalized  it,  you  begin  to  see  it  clearer. 
And  by  and  by,  as  you  go  on  in  the  divine  life,  your  joy  which 
brought  you  nearer  to  him  is  a  painter ;  your  sorrow  which  he  sus- 
t^ained  you  in  is  a  painter ;  your  faith  which  you  are  obliged  to  live 
by  in  many  instances  is  a  painter;  and  your  pei'sonal  experiences 
which,  one  after  another,  have  all  been  experienced  of  the  life  that  is 
hid  in  Christ  Jesus  will  begin  to  limn  the  character  of  Christ.  The 
Christ  of  your  original  conception  ought  never  to  be  so  glowing  and 
so  glorious  as  the  Christ  of  your  experience.  A  truly  Christian  life 
is  one  that  is  not  simply  framing  a  disposition  here,  but  out  of  this 
disposition  a  conception  also.  And  the  Christ  that  delivered  us  ;  the 
Christ  that  sustained  us  when  our  babe  dropped  away  from  our  arms ; 
the  Christ  that  sustained  us*when  we  buried  our* dead,  almost  hope- 
less and  cruslied ;  the  Christ  that  sustained  us  when  we  were  in  bank- 
-uptcy ;  the  Christ  that  sustained  us  when  all  meri  were  against  us, 
and  it  seemed  as  though  the  full  breath  of  winter  was  cutting  through 
and  through ;  the  Christ  that  sustained  us  in  the  hour  of  despondency ; 
the  Christ  that  stood  by  us  Avhen  all  men  had  deserted  us ;  the  Christ 
that  was  our  friend  on  the  sea  and  on  the  land,  in  the  prison-house 
and  on  the  battle-field ;  the  Christ  of  the  household ;  my  mother's 
Christ ;  my  father's  Christ ;  my  brother's  Christ ;  my  sister's  Christ ; 
the  Christ  of  the  lecture-room  and  of  the  prayer-meeting ;  the  Christ 
of  all  my  life,  at  last  begins  to  rise  before  me,  in  my  later  years. 
And  as  I  die,  I  do  not  go  toward  the  barren  and  the  voiceless  land ; 


CONDUCT   THE  INDEX   OF  FEELING.  37 

I  go  toward  all  that  my  heart  has  ever  known  of  joy  and  of  nobility. 
I  am  living  toward  myself,  and  I  shall  die  toward  myself ;  because 
"  for  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain."  And  so,  at  last,  when  I 
go  to  that  fatherland — the  land  of  my  fathers — I  shall  not  be  a  stran- 
ger ;  nor  shall  I  need  to  learn  the  language  of  that  land ;  nor  shall  I 
need  to  be  introduced  to  Him  that  is  the  Head  there.  For  all  my  life  long 
I  have  been  learning.  And  when  at  last  I  hear  that  voice  compared 
with  which  all  music  of  earth  shall  be  as  a  dry  and  cacophonous 
sound,  saying,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,"  then,  in  that 
hour  of  joy,  of  full  possession  and  of  blessed  presence,  I  wiy  cast  my 
crown  at  his  feet,  and  say,  "  Not  unto  me,  but  unto  thy  name,  be  the 
praise  of  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  ever  shall  be." 


PRAYER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON. 

Wb  thank  thee,  our  Father,  for  all  the  mercies  wlpch  -thou  hast  Touchsafed  to  us  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ;  above  all,  for  the  knowledge  of  Christ  not  only  revealed  in  the  flesh,  upon 
a  record  transmitted  to  us,  but  brought  near  by  the  Holy  Spirit  and  realized  in  our  own  experi- 
ence. We  thank  thee  that  we  have  in  him  an  ever-present  Help  ;  a  High-Priest,  merciful,  having 
respect  to  our  infirmities,  abiding  even  in  our  trausgi-ession,  and  rejoicing,  not  to  destroy,  but  to 
save.  In  him  is  our  hope.  Not  only  would  we  have  that  precious  name  and  be  called  thereby, 
but  we  desire  to  grow  into  the  spuit  of  the  Saviour,  and  more  and  more  to  become  like  unto 
him. 

Grant  that  we  may  have  interpreted  to  us,  Jjy  our  own  thought  quickened  by  thine,  what  is 
the  royal  way  of  life,  that  all  our  inward  motives  and  dispositions  may  become  acceptable  in  thy 
sight,  cleansed,  purified,  made  heavenly.  Thou  hast  beheld  the  struggle  which  we  have  waged ; 
thou  hast  beheld  its  victories  and  defeats.  By  thy  faithfulness  alone  we  continue  until  this  time, 
striving  against  sin  and  resisting  temptation. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  I  that  the  power,  the  attraction  of  things  good 
may  be  more  with  us  than  the  fear  of  the  penalty  of  things  evil.  May  we  be  drawn  forward,  and 
not  driven  forth.  May  we  behold  thee,  and  in  filial  love  desu-e  to  obey  thee.  For  thy  command- 
ments are  not  grievous.  They  that  have  followed  in  the  right  way  can  bear  witness  that  it  is  a 
way  of  pleasantness,  and  that  its  paths  are  peace.  Grant  that  every  one  of  us  may  find  in  a  consum- 
mated obedience  that  rest  of  heart,  that  satisfaction  of  oiu*  spiritual  nature,  wliich  we  do  crave. 

Vouchsafe  thy  blessing  to  all  in  thy  presence  that  bring  before  thee,  in  the  struggle  of  life, 
some  unsubdued  sin  against  which  they  supplicate  divine  help  ;  some  passion  which  may  have 
flashed  its  light  upon  them,  and  left  them  desolate.  Grant  to  every  one  that  watches  against  easily 
besetting  sins,  and  hath,  this  morning,  the  tale  of  complaint,  the  e^r  of  sympathy,  and  the  hand 
of  help.  Open  the  way  to  those  that  desire  to  walk,  and  find  but  darkness  or  but  twilight  rest- 
ing upon  their  path.  May  they  look  up,  and  behold  thee,  and  be  guided  by  thy  star  from  above, 
and  not  by  looking  down  to  their  own  feet.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  all 
those,  this  morning,  who  desire  to  be  revived  in  the  true  spirit  of  their  heart.  Wilt  thou  quicken 
■  them  by  the  truth,  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  may  they  take  hold  upon  that  higher  life  and 
those  nobler  experiences  which  they  are  pursuing. 

Comfort  any  that  are  in  trouble.  Take  away  their  grief,  or  give  them  strength  to  bear  it. 
Give  victory  to  every  one  in  thy  presence,  in  the  great  warfare  of  their  soul.  May  none  fear  to  come 
to  thee  ;  for  thou  art  a  present  help  in  time  of  need,  and  art  always  helping  ;  and  thou  hast  won  the 
right  of  being  trusted.  We  desire,  in  the  memory  of  all  our  past  experiences,  knowing  that  thou 
hast  done  abundantly  more  for  us  than  we  have  asked  or  thought,  to  trust  thee,  turning  away 
from  vain  confidence  in  ourselves,  and  from  overmuch  hope.  We  desire  to  turn  away  from  aU 
lesser  things,  and  trust  thee.  For  thou  art  good  ;  thou  art  wise  ;  thou  art  ever-present ;  thou  art 
full  of  sympathy.  We  are  dear  to  thee.  Thou  hast  interfered  in  our  behalf,  and  art  perpetually 
interfering.  And  thou  wilt  yet  bring  us  forth  victorious  over  every  adversary.  We  trust  thee ; 
we  love  thee  ;  and  we  desire  to  walk  ever  more  in  thy  paths. 

Bless,  we  pray  thee,  those  households  that  are  here  represented.  May  peace,  and  purity,  and 
gladness  dwell  in  every  one  of  them.    Sanctify  to  thy  people  all  the  dispensations  of  thy  provi- 


38  CONDUCT   TEE  INDEX   OF  FEELING. 

dence.  Grant  that  joy  and  prosperity  may  not  corrupt  them,  nor  make  them  self-seeking.  May 
troubles  not  daunt  them,  nor  evil  harden  them.  May  they  gather  about  them  tlieir  garments, 
and  gird  up  their  loins,  and  press  forward.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  comfort  those  that  are  in 
the  midst  of  sharp  bereavements.  Assuage  theii-  sorrow  ;  and  may  it  work  cure,  as  a  medicine,  to 
their  souls.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  that  arc  in  perplexity  and  suspense.  And 
grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  help  from  above,  that  they  may  find  in  thee  a  peace  which  passeth  all 
understanding,  and  a  stability  which  nothing  can  disturb. 

Grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  our  brethren  of  every  name— upon  all  that  are  gathered  to- 
gether everywhere  to-day,  to  worship  thee  in  sincerity  aud  truth.  Save  men  from  their  errors. 
Magnily  in  them  the  things  that  are  true  and  right.  Draw  thy  people  together  by  their  common 
sympathies.  Less  and  less  may  they  become  antagonized  and  divided  from  each  other  by  the 
things  in  which  they  differ.  And  we  pray  that  thy  kingdom  may  come  in  all  the  world,  and  that 
thy  will  may  be  done  everywhere. 

Pity  the  nations  that  struggle  for  their  birthright.  Pity  the  weak  that  are  overborne  by  the 
hand  of  power.  Give  wisdom,  perseverance,  and  courage,  and  final  success  to  all  those  that 
seek  for  independence,  and  for  the  liberty  to  worship  according  to  their  own  consciences.  Fill 
the  world  with  thy  glory.    And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  for  evermore.    Amen. 


PMYER   AFTER   THE    SEEMOI. 

OuB  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that^thou  wilt  take  us,  even  as  we  take  our  little  ones,  lost 
in  a  perplexed  path.  How  do  we  sometimes  go  before  them,  that  they  may  follow  us  !  How,  at 
other  times,  do  we  go  behind  them  to  lift  them  !  How  do  we  sometimes  hold  apart  the  branches  I 
and  how  at  other  times  do  we  encourage  them  to  essay  their  own  strength  and  their  own  skill ! 
How  do  we  call  them,  and  urge  them  to  endeavor  that  they  may  walk  in  the  right  way  1 

Now,  thou  art  carrying  us  through  the  wilderness.  Thou  art  sometimes  chastising  us,  and 
sometimes  rewarding  us— but  alike  in  love,  whether  thou  art  stem,  or  whether  thou  art  gentle. 
We  thank  thee  for  thy  gentleness  toward  us.  We  fain  would  bless  thee  by  fond  aflections  to- 
ward thee.  But  if  we  may  not  feel  the  intensity  of  passionate  love,  we  desire  to  have  that  feel- 
ing which  shall  work  in  us  likeness  to  thee.  We  desii-e  to  change  our  hearts,  so  that  it  may  not 
be  for  our  dalliance  and  enjoyment  that  we  feel,  but  that  it  may  be  shaping  and  fashioning  us 
into  thy  blessed  image.  So  may  we  live  in  Christ,  aud  for  Christ.  May  he  abide  in  ns,  and  we 
in  him,  and  all  in  God. 

And  to  thy  name  bIibU  be  the  praise,  forever  and  forever. 


III. 
The  Sympathy  of  Chkist, 


THE    SYMPATHY  OF    CHRIST. 


SUNDAY  MORNING,  MARCH  28,  1869. 


INVOCATION. 

We  rejoice  in  tliee,  tliou  Father  of  light,  and  desire  to  draw  near,  clothed  this 
day  with  hope  and  joy,  that  we  may  be  the  children  of  light.  Thine  is  the 
heaven  ;  thine  the  sun  that  goeth  forth  there  ;  thine  are  all  the  sweet  influences 
of  the  spring ;  thine  is  the  summer ;  and  thine  the  glory  and  the  bounty  of  the 
autumn.  But  what  is  this  earth,  which  thou  dost  bless  by  the  natural  sun,  com- 
pared with  thine  own  household  ?  There,  where  thy  heart  shines ;  there,  \v  here 
there  is  no  winter  and  no  night — there  art  thou  most  God.  We  bless  thee  for  the 
knowledge  of  thyself,  thy  nature,  as  developed  toward  men  ;  and  we  rejoice  this 
day  that  we  may  come  rejoicing  with  all  thy  people,  in  Christ,  in  thy  life,  in  thy 
power.  Give  to  us  something  of  that  life.  Mark  us  by  that  power.  Set  us  apart 
— and  this  day  especially.  May  all  tears  be  wiped  away,  and  all  joys  be  summoned, 
that  we  may  come  into  thy  presence  rejoicingly,  and  worship  not  alone  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord — the  fear  that  love  gives — but  in  the  joy  of  the  Lord.  And  may  this 
Sabbath  be  indeed  to  us  a  rest.  May  we  carry  something  of  the  spirit  and  glad- 
ness of  the  sanctuary  to  our  several  homes,  and  be  cheered  wherever  We  are.  We 
ask  it  for  the  Redeemer's  sake.   .Amen. 


"  Seeing  then  that  we  have  a  great  high-priest,  that  is  passed  into  the  hea- 
vens, Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession.  For  we  have  not  an' 
high-priest  which  can  not  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ;  but  was 
in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin.  »Let  us  therefore  come  boldly 
unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we.  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time 
of  need." — Heb.  iv.  14-16. 

The  N"e\v  Testament  is  full  of  the  doctrine  that  God  sustains  a 
jDersonal  relationship  to  mankind — to  the  individuals  of  the  race; 
which  is  more  exactly  represented  to  us  by  the  experience  of  a  father 
and  child,  than  by  any  other.  It  is  true  that  God  is  represented  as 
Sovereign,  as  King,  as  Judge,  as  'Lord,  as  Magistrate ;  and  toward 
the  race  collectively  he  is.  But  personally,  and  to  the  individuals  of 
the  human  family,  the  representation  of  the  Word  of  God  is,  t^iat  he 
sustains  an  intimate  personal  relationship,  full  of  friendliness,  full  of 
love,  full  of  sympathy.  This  seems  fabulous  to  many,  because  they 
have  no  idea  of  the  divine  manifestation  except  such  a  one  as  our 
bodily  senses  can  perceive.  And  since  God  makes  to  them  no  ap- 
Lksson  :  Heb.  ii.    Hymna  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos,  217,  iHS,  855. 


40  •      THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

pearance,  and  addresses  his  personality  to  neither  the  eye  nor  the  ear 
nor  the  hand,  they  can  not  understan'd  how  there  should  be  a  God  that 
sympathizes  with  the  individuals  of  the  race,  forever  hidden  from  thera 
personally,  silent,  communicating  in  none  of  those  ways  by  which  on 
earth  one  soul  is  wont  to  communicate  with  another.  And  it  is  a 
matter  of  grave  doubt  to  such,  whether  there  be  a  God,  or  any  that 
is  comprehensible  by  i;s. 

To  this  doubt  of  the  divine  sympathy  on  account  of  the  hidings 
of  God,  is  added  the  statement  that  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  in  an 
infinite  being  there  could  be  any  such  experience  of  sympathy  as  we 
understand  from  the  use  of  such  terms.  It  is  argued  that  an  infinite 
being  would  concern  himself  with  affairs  that  had  some  impoi*- 
tance  commensurate  with  his  own  being.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  allowed, 
many  say,  that  God  would  meddle  with  the  minute  affairs  of  such  a 
world  as  this.  And  as  men  become  acquainted  with  what  constitutes 
the  sum  of  their  fellow-men's  lives,  still  less  are  they  inclined  to  think 
that  God  sympathizes  with  the  outpouring,  the  folly,  the  foolishness, 
the  wickedness  of  the  human  soul. 

This  gross  judgment  is  derived  from  the  tendencies  of  the  worst 
side  of  our  human  nature.  We  attribute  to  God  the  feelings  which 
we  have,  and  the  actions  which  flow  from  those  feelings.  But  in  us 
they  are  our  lowest  and  our  most  unworthy  feelings.  Such  reasoning 
infers  from  men's  selfishness  and  vanity  a  divine  indifference  to  all 
that  is  not  conspicuous,  exclamatory,  and  praise-begetting.  If  this 
world  were  a  thousand  times  as  big  as  it  is,  the  argument  would 
naturally  infer,  that  perhaps  God  would  look  at  it ;  and  if  men  were 
vastly  greater  than  they  are,  then  may  be  God  would  sympathize 
with  them.  But  the  world  is  so  small — its  face  being  but  a  mere 
spot  in  the  stellar  universe — and  men  are  so  little,  that  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  that  God  wearies  himself  or  meddles  with  such  things. 
Our  better  nature  should  have  taught  us  better  ;  for  bur  own  higher 
moods  of  manhood  put  all  these  to  shame. 

The  assumption  that  this  world,  or  the  men  that  live  on  it,  ai'e  re- 
latively small,  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  allowed — though  if  it  were 
true,  it  would  make  no  difference.  The  moral  magnitude  of  things 
has  no  relationship  to  the  physical.  What  if  a  man  should  say  that 
Washington  was  not  a  great  man  because  he  was  not  a  ten  thousandth 
part  as  great  as  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  comparing  moral  magnitude 
with  jihysical  ?  What  has  the  size  of  a  man,  or  the  duration  on  earth 
of  a  man,  or  his  physical  powers,  to  do  with  the  moral  measurement 
that  belongs  to  the  understanding,  the  reason,  or  the  moral  sentiments  ? 
Is  a  battle  great  by  the  size  of  the  nation  that  fought  it,  or  the  field 
that  it  was  fought  in  ?  Or  is  it  great  by  the  skill  and  the  bravery  enac- 
ted, and  by  the  long-reaching  sequences  that  flow  from  it  ?    The  part 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  41 

which  this  world  is  to  play  in  the  far  future ;  the  experiment  of  hu- 
man life  :  the  story  of  divine  sacrifice  and  love ;  the  part  which  re- 
deemed men  are  to  enact  in  their  translation  into  the  heavenly  sphere 
— these  all  give  a  moral  grandeur  to  this  world,  and  utterly  overcome 
the  objection  that  God  would  not  be  likely  to  give  minute  personal 
thought  to  the  evolutions  of  individual  life.  Not  in  himself,  but  in 
his  relations  to  his  Author  and  Creatoi",  and  in  his  relations  to  the  fix- 
ture dwelling  of  his  spirit,  man  is  great,  and  the  lowest  and  the  least 
is  immeasurably  great. 

Another  source  of  difficulty  in  conceiving  of  an  actiA^e  sympathy 
on  the  part  of  God  with  the  personal  feelings  and  history  of  men  on 
earth,  has  been  an  intense  presentation  of  God's  holiness  and  justice, 
60  that  men  have  been  afraid  to  believe  that  God  did  sympathize. 
That  he  was  a  spectator;  that  he  registered  misdeeds,  and  would 
punish  them,  men  have  been  made  to  believe.  The  stern  attributes  of 
God  have  been  dwelt  upon  sometimes  till  from  them  alone  it  was 
that  men  derived  their  idea  of  God's  nature.  It  is  true  that  God  is 
just ;  it  is  true  that  he  punishes  ;  but  it  is  not  true  that  the  presenta- 
tion of  God's  justice  and  his  penal  administration  is  a  fair  representa- 
tion of  the  divine  nature.  It  is  true  that  the  base  and  sub-base  is  the 
foundation  of  the' organ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that,  if  one  plays  the 
sub-base  incessantly,  he  has  a  better  idea  of  what  that  organ  is  than 
if  it  only  has  its  subordinate  part  and  interplay. 

There  be  many  that  are  preaching  what  are  called  "  foundation  doc- 
trines "  so  constantly  that  men  never  suspect  what  God  is.  These  alter- 
native views,  these  views  of  God's  justice  or  alternative  love,  in  their 
effect  upon  the  minds  of*  men,  misinterpret,  and  too  often  absolutely 
slander  the  divine  nature.  The  New  Testament  is  full  of  cheer  and  of 
brightness  from  Christ's  manifestation  of  sympathy ;  and  the  Boole  of 
Hebrews,  arguing  to  the  Jewish  mind,  and  therefore  employing  Jewish 
symbols,  is  peculiarly  full  of  this  glorious  truth  of  the  active  and 
sympathetic  nature  of  God. 

That  the  silent  Jesus  is  not  now  gone  forward  to  other  things ; 
that  he  dwells  abo\*e  to  maintain  intimate  and  helpful  relations  Avith 
all  who  love  him  ;  that  he  is  nearer  to  men  than  when  he  was  present 
with  them;  that  it  was  needful  for  oursakes  that  he  should  go  up  to 
his  own  sphere,  and  resume  his  spiritual  nature — these  are  abundant- 
ly the  teachings  of  the  New  Testament.  Christ  is  nearer  to  us,  dearer, 
and  more  sympathizing,  in  all  the  practical  applications  of  sympathy, 
than  when  he  walked  clothed  with  the  human  form  upon  eartli.  It  is 
taught  that  this  relationship  is  so  intimate  and  effectual  that  he  is 
concerned  and  affected  by  our  whole  experience.  Our  feelings,  as  it 
were,  throw  their  shadows  continually  upon  him.  He  joys  with  us  ; 
he  sorrows  with  us;  he  makes  our  case  his  own.     No  language  can 


42  •  TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

parallel  that  which  he  employs.  He  comes  into  us  and  abides  with 
us.  He  takes  us  unto  himself,  that  as  he  is  one  with  the  Father,  so 
we  may  be  one  with  him.  As  the  branch  symj^athizes  with  all  that 
befalls  the  parent  stock,  and  as  the  jjarent  stock  also  feels  whatever 
mutilation  there  is  of  the  branch,  so  Christ  represents  his  disciples  as 
being  as  intimately  related  to  him  as  that. 

Some  of  the  great  features  of  this  truth  should  be  more  emphati- 
cally stated ;  and  we  proceed  to  do  it. 

First.  Christ  has  not  relied  upon  the  omniscience  of  his  divine  na- 
ture, upon  the  sj^ecixlative  interests  of  a  benevolent  looker-on,  but  he 
has  taken  upon  himself  the  whole  human  condition.  I  read  in  the 
opening  service  a  scripture  which  bears  upon  that  subject.  "  Foras- 
much, then,  as  the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also 
himself  likewise  took  part  of  the  same  ;  that  through  death  he 
might  destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is,  the  devil; 
and  deliver  them  who  through  fear  of  death  were  all  their  lifetime 
subject  to  bondage.  For  verily  he  took  not  on  him  the  nature  of 
angels ;  but  he  took  on  hira  the  seed  of  Abraham.  Wherefore  in  all 
things  it  behoved  him  to  be  made  like  unto  his  brethren,  that  he 
might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high-priest  in  things  pertaining 
to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  For  in 
that  he  himself  hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able  to  succor 
them  that  are  tempted." 

It  is  unquestionably  true  that  this  is  the  language  of  conformity  to 
human  ideas  to  a  certain  extent ;  but  it  seems  to  me  just  as  true  that  this 
teaches  that  there  were  certain  fulfillments  of  experience  ;  there  were 
certain  lessons  to  be  learned  which  even  the  divine  nature  could  not 
take  except  in  this  one  Avay  of  experience  ;  and  that  in  order  to  be  a 
perfect  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  must  needs  take  uj)on  himself  the 
whole  human  laAV  and  condition.  For  it  says,  in  another  place,  "  It 
became  Him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in 
bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their  salvation 
perfect  through  sufferings."  What  that  necessity  was,  or  what  was 
the  range  and  realm  of  this  discipline,  we  do  not  know.  It  is  suffi- 
cient that  we  understand  that  there  was  an  imj^ortant  sense  in  which 
Christ, 'taking  the  human  form  and  dwelling  in  it,  and  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  laws  of  nature,  learned  that  which  made  him  a  more 
perfect  exemplar  and  a  more  perfect  Saviour,  and  prepared  him  to  be 
more  sympathetic  with  us  than  he  would  have  been.       ^ 

In  our  text  we  have  the  declaration,  "  For  we  have  not  an  high- 
priest  which  can  not  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities ; 
but  was  in  all  points  tempted  "  —  tried,  proved — "  like  as  we  are, 
yet  without  sin."  And  the  inference  is,  "  Let  us  therefore  come 
boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace."     On  account  of  this  experience  of 


TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  43 

temptation,  he  is  fitted  to  save  men  that  are  tempted  and  that 
sin. 

We  are  not  to  suppose  that  onr  Saviour  had  every  single  experience 
that  man  ever  has.  That  is  not  needful.  A  geographer  may  be  a 
competent  representative  of  the  land  through  which  he  travels,  with- 
out having  stood  on  every  single  foot  of  ground  which  he  describes. 
Robinson  did  not  need  to  tread  every  square  inch  of  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  in  order  to  understand  the  topography  of  that  city,  and  re- 
present it  accurately  to  us.  It  was  not  necessary  that  Christ  should 
pass  through  every  shade  and  every  inflection  of  human  experience  in 
order  to  understand  them.  For  all  experience  issues  from  certain  de- 
finite foundations  of  faculty ;  and  it  is  enough  if  every  faculty  which 
works  in  us  was  proved,  pained,  tempted,  and  tried  in  him,  and  tried 
up  to  this  measure,  that  no  man  should  thereafter  live  who  should 
have  any  temptation  or  trial  that  should  make  against  any  given 
faculty  such  a  pressure  as  was  made  against  our  Saviour.  Pride — is 
it  tempted  among  men  ?  All  that  I  require  is,  that  Christ  should 
have  felt  a  temptation  of  pride  that  should  more  than  equal  it ;  that 
shoiild  swell  immeasurably  above  and  overmatch  any  trial  that  befalls 
his  followers  below — in  other  words,  enough  put  to  proof  in  that  par- 
ticular faculty  of  the  human  soul,  to  understand  what  that  faculty 
can  sufl'er ;  how  it  can  be  tempted ;  what  course  is  needed  to  sustain 
one  under  such  temptation.  It  is  not  needful,  therefore,  that  Christ 
should  sustain  the  relationship  of  husband,  for  he  never  was  in  wed- 
lock ;  or  of  father.  It  only  requires  that  he  should  sustain  such  a  re- 
lation to  universal  human  nature  or  life  that  there  should  be  no  fa- 
culty, no  passion,  no  sentiment  that  is  tempted  in  us,  that  should  not 
also  be  tempted  in  him  ;  and  that  there  should  be  no  such  pressure 
brought  to  bear  upon  us  that  our  temptation  should  ever  be  greater 
than  his  knowledge  of  temptation  through  his  own  suflfering. 

"  Tempted  in  all  points,"  is  not,  therefore,  tempted,  in  all  things^ 
"  like  as  we  are."  There  are  many  combinations  of  circumstances  that 
never  occurred  in  his  life ;  and  there  may  be  very  many  shades  of  feel- 
ing. Checkered,  endlessly  varying,  lights  may  fall  upon  human  expe- 
rience that  did  not  precisely  so  fall  upon  Christ's  experience  upon 
earth.  But  there  has  been  no  assault  made  upon  any  human  power, 
and  there  never  will  be  an  assault  made  to  carry  any  human  power 
the  wrong  way,  that  Christ  did  not  have  upon  the  same  point  a  hun- 
dred fold,  probably,  more  pressure  and  more  besieging  and  assault. 
And  he  is  therefore  thoroughly  versed  in  human  life.  Wliatever  rea- 
son needs,  he  felt  the  need  of.  "Whatever  the  imagination  needs,  he 
felt  the  need  of.  Whatever  the  moral  sentiments  need,  either  for 
opening  and  enlarging  them,  or  of  temptation ;  whatever  sympa- 


44  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

thies  between  man  and  man  in  lis  requii-e  divine  lieljD — in  all  these 
respects  Christ  also  was  put  to  i^roof. 

It  did  not  take  him  so  long  to  live  as  it  does  ns.  A  man  does  not 
live  by  the  length  of  his  years,  but  by  the  activity  of  the  nature  that 
carries  him  through  those  years.  Christ  filled  up  the  measure  of  hu- 
man experience  in  the  brief  time  that  he  was  here  on  earth ;  and  now, 
having  ascended  on  high,  there  is  nothing  for  him  to  learn.  He  has 
learned  it  all,  because  he  has  passed  through  it  all.  And  because  he 
has  thus  taken  part  in  the  human  lot,  the  offer  is  made  to  every  hu- 
man being  to  come  boldly  to  him.  There  is  no  sorrow,  and  no  joy, 
that  he  does  not  perfectly  understand.  You  never  will  be  able  to 
whisper  a  secret  into  the  ear  of  the  sympathizing  Saviour. 

And  yet,  grief  always  is  confceited.  Grief  always  says,  "  There  nev- 
er was  such  suffering  as  mine ;  there  never  was  such  peculiar  grief  as 
mine.  Others  have  had  sorrows,  but  ah!  I  could  bear  such  a  sorrow, 
or  such  a  sorrow."  Every  body  could  bear  every  sorrow  except  the 
one  that  he  has.  And  grief  always  says,  "  Mine  stands  apart  and  out- 
side of  every  ordinary  experience."  And  above  us  all  is  the  Saviour, 
saying,  "  Come  boldly  to  me  in  every  time  of  need,  for  succer  and  for 
help.  For  I  have  been  tried  in  every  respect  as  you  are,  and  without 
sin.  I  am  therefore  a  High-Priest  that  can  be  touched  with  the  feel 
ing  of  your  infirmities.     Come  to  me." 

This  sympathy  of  Christ  is  not  simply  a  joint  feeling,  or  a  mere 
echo  of  ours.  It  is  the  most  superficial  understanding  which  we  have 
of  sympathy,  that  we  feel  with  our  fellow-men.  This  is  something, 
this  is  much,  in  human  experience — to  have  friends  that  feel  with  us, 
though  they  do  nothing,  and  take  nothing  away  from  our  emotion  ; 
though  they  add  nothing  to  joy,  and  take  nothing  away  from  our  sor- 
row. Yet  there  is  great  pleasure  in  knowing  that  if  we  are  in  grief, 
our  faithful  friend  grieves ;  that  if  we  are  in  gladness,  our  faithful 
friend  is  glad.  That  is  much ;  but  that  is  the  lowest  and  the  least 
part  of  a  fruitful  sympathy. 

Much  of  human  sympathy  is,  to  identify  yourself  simply  with  a 
friend  in  his  good  or  his  ill ;  but  we  see  on  earth  that  there  are  germs 
of  a  sympathy  that  is  nobler  than  this — in  a  mother,  in  a  teacher,  in 
a  superior  natiare  that  companions  with  us,  that  not  only  understands 
our  experience,  but  that  looks  back  at  the  causes,  and  looks  forward  at 
the  results,  and  sympathizes  with  the  feeling,  but  does  it  also  with  a 
large  educating  eye,  and  takes  in  the  whole  scope  of  it — whence  it 
came,  and  whither  it  goes ;  and  then  measures  the  sympathy,  not 
merely  by  orbing  joy  for  joy,  or  fear  for  fear,  but  with  this  large  con- 
ception of  the  official  relations  of  e^'perience  to  character  and  to  great- 
er happiness. 

Wliy   should  I  feel    sorrow   because,   when  I  shut   my    hand, 
the  child  thinks  that  he  has  lost  the  bait  that  is  there?     I  have 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRISt.  45 

only  shut  it  in  order  that,  lowering  the  tone  of  his  joy,  and  bringing 
sadness,  I  might  make  him  more  glad  when  I  spring  it  open,  and 
show  him  what  I  hold  for  him.  And  how,  in  a  larger  way,  are  we  do- 
ing continuously  that  which  I  do  in  sport  with  little  children  !  How 
are  men  sympathizmg  with  men,  and  yet  paining  them !  When  some 
great  news  of  gladness  has  come  to  you,  how  do  you  sometimes  go, 
wit^j  a  downcast  ]ook,  to  a  friend's  house,  as  if  it  were  bad  news,  and 
beginning  afar  oif,  and,  as  it  wei'e,  tempering  them  lower,  and  then, 
when  some  little  fear  is  excited,  burst  out  with  the  good  news !  And 
when  you  see  them  sorrowing,  does  it  make  you  sorrow  with  them  ? 
You  are  in  sympathy  with  them ;  but  you  do  not  sorrow,  because  you 
know  it  is  a  mere  bait ;  that  it  was  a  discord  thrown  in  to  bring  out 
the  glorious  harmony  of  gladness  and  joy. 

And  so  there  is  a  sympathy  which  does  not  merely  duplicate  your 
experience,  l)ut  that,  as  it  wei'e,  rises  up  above  you,  and  takes  in  the 
whole  thought  of  your  nature  and  your  character,  and  your  joy,  and 
your  sorrow,  and  sympathizes  in  such  a  way  that  it  sympathizes  more 
with  your  whole  manh(jod  than  with  special  acts  of  individual  experi- 
ences in  that  manhood.  Do  we  not  sympathize  continuoxisly  in  this 
way  with  persons  that  are  in  joy,  and  that  are  in  sorrow?  Are  we 
not  less  glad  than  many  a  child  is,  though  we  are  glad  that  he  is 
glad  ?  Does  not  old  age  sit  and  smile  when  younger  ones  break  out  in 
•the  exhilaration  of  joy  ?  Why  do  they  not  go  as  far  with  them  ?  Be- 
cause they  better  understand  what  is  the  whole  run  and  effect  of  joy. 
They  sympathize,  to  be  sure ;  but  not  to  the  full  measui-e  of  this  feel- 
ing, which  is  false  and  exaggerated  m  the  young. 

When  the  young  mother  sheds  the  first  glowing  leaf  m  autumn, 
and  the  babe  is  carried  from  her  arms  and  buried,  and  she,  like  some 
fragrant  bush  in  the  morning  covered  with  dew,  shakes  tears  from  ev- 
ery twig,  because  I,  too,  do  not  measure  every  one  of  her  sighs,  and 
every  one  of  her  sobs,  do  I  not  sympathize  with  her  ?  For  I  say  to  my- 
self, "  What  is  this  loss  but  the  making  of  a  greater  nature  in  you  ?" 
She  buries  the  babe  to  keep  it.  So  only  do  we  keep  our  children, 
as  children,  when  we  put  them  away  from  us  in  infancy,  and  see  them 
no  more  until  we  meet  them  in  heaven.  They  remain  shrined  in  the 
imagination,  and  they  are  little  children  forever.  And  do  I  not  see 
what  pfitience  and  gentleness  it  will  work  in  her,  and  what  serene 
dignity  is  already  begining  to  steal  upon  her  ?  And  do  I  not  know 
that  God  is  calling  her  in  taking  this  little  child?  He  does  not 
take  it,  perhaps,  for  the  purpose  of  educating  her ;  but  he  takes  it  for 
his  own  wise  purposes  ;  and  the  sorrow  that  is  left  behind  is  a  means 
of  education.  Do  I  not  sorrow  because  she  has  lost  her  babe  ?  But 
do  I  just  measure  her  experience  over  again  in  my  mmd  ?  Do  not  I 
look  with  a  large  eye,  enlightened  by  past  knowledge  of  such  things 


46  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

in  life  ?  Do  not  I  look  at  the  -whole  scope  and  operation  of  these  phe- 
nomena ?  Grief  is  near-sighted,  and  holds  its  trouble  close  up ;  but 
love  is  long-sighted,  and  takes  the  events  of  life,  and  looks  at  them  in 
all  points  of  view,  and  sees  how  they  look  against  the  east,  and  how 
agamst  the  west ;  how  toward  the  north,  and  how  toward  the  south ; 
how  above,  and  how  below;  how  against  one  background,  and  how 
against  another.  Love  looks  upon  a  thing  all  around,  in  its  germs, 
and  in  its  fruits ;  in  its  presence  and  in  its  coming.  It  sympathizes  not 
with  the  limitation  of  grief,  but  with  the  largeness  of  that  love  of  hu- 
manity which  is  in  every  event. 

Our  Saviour  sympathizes  with  us.  Yet  Christ  sympathizes  not  sim- 
ply as  one  that  would  make  us  haj^py.  So  it  is  that  a  servant  does. 
Servants  are  dearer  to  children  than  their  parents,  often.  Do  you 
want  to  know  why  ?  Generally  because  the  servant  does  not  care 
for  the  whole  run  of  the  child's  life.  He  cares  to  make  him  glad  now, 
or  to  assuage  his  pain  now.  So  the  servant  gives  him  the  top  that 
the  father  would  not  give  him.  The  servant  grants  him  little  per- 
missions that  the  mother  would  not  grant  him.  The  father  and  moth- 
er sympathize  with  the  child  more  largely,  more  comprehensively, 
and  are  all  the  time  administering  with  reference  to  his  manhood — 
not  with  reference  to  his  momentary  gratification.  They  do  not  want 
him  to  be  always  a  child.  They  want  him  to  become  a  man.  There- 
fore they  give  or  take  from  him  one  or  another  element  as  their  ex- 
perience and  wisdom  dictate,  with  a  view  to  the  child's  whole  good. 
But  the  servant  has  nothing  to  do  with  educating  the  child,  and  only 
thinks  of  the  present.  The  servant  wants  to  have  a  good  time ;  wants 
to  get  along  in  the  pleasantest  way  possible.  And  so,  when  the  child 
falls  and  hurts  himself,  and  cries,  the  servant  takes  him  up,  and  pats 
him  on  the  head,  and  pities  him,  and  takes  a  world  more  care  of  him 
than  the  father  would.  The  father,  when  the  child  falls  down,  does 
not  allow  himself  to  be  tender  to  him,  because  tenderness  rather  un- 
does a  child.  He  straightens  up  before  him,  and  says,  "  Be  a  man, 
my  son,"  and  teaches  him  manhood,  and  sympathizes  with  his  pain. 
But  the  sei'vant  does  not  care  for  the  manhood.  He  runs  to  wait  on 
the  child,  and  lets  the  child  have  its  own  way,  till  he  thinks  that 
the  best  friend  he  has  in  the  world  is  the  servant.  He  thinks  so 
simply  because  this  servant  sympathizes  with  his  momentary  sorrow  ; 
because  he  takes  care  of  the  child's  present ;  because  he  is  nearest  to 
his  little  body,  and  nearest  to  his  flesh-interpreting  instincts.  Hence 
it  is  that  children  like  servants  in  life  better  than  they  do  their  par- 
ents— unless  parents  are  wise  enough  to  become  servants  for  their 
children's  sake.  Parents  ought  to  play  with  their  children.  The 
parent  ought,  at  tii^es,  to  make  himself  child  enough  to  institute  be- 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  47 

tween  him  and  the  child  the  full  sympathy  which  is  sometimes  divi- 
ded, the  servant  taking  one  part,  and  the  parent  keeping  the  other. 

Now,  our  dear  Master  is  father  and  mother  to  us  ;  and  the  sympa- 
thy of  Christ  with  us — do  not  suppose  it  is  just  this :  that  when 
you  are  glad,  Christ  is  glad ;  and  when  you  are  sorrowful,  Clirist  is 
sorrowful.^  It  is  that,  to  be  sure ;  but  it  is  a  thousand  times  more  than 
that.  When  your  gladness  rolls  u^),  and,  as  it  were,  is  magnified 
ujDon  the  proportions  of  the  infinite,  and  in  some  measure  takes  it 
in,  there  is  a  thousand  times  more  joy  than  otherwise  there  could 
be  in  you.  But  after  all,  he  loves  you  so  well  that  he  is  not  going  to 
study  your  momentary  convenience.  That  way  lies  self-indulgence, 
and  self-indulgence  is  a  moth  and  rust  that  doth  corrupt  and  utterly 
destroy  true  manhood.  No  man  can  be  a  man  that  has  not  learned 
how  to  overcome  self-indulgence ;  that  has  not  learned  through  pain, 
under  burdens  and  crosses  long  continued,  to  carry  himself  ri^-ht 
manly. 

Our  dear  Master  loves  us ;  and,  loving  us,  he  means  to  mak( 
something  out  of  us.  Therefore  he  is  not  going  to  be  indulgent,  not 
is  he  going  to  let  us  be  self-indulgent.  And  his  sympathy  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  duplication  of  our  experience.  It  is  not  an  eclio 
of  our  heart.  Our  Saviour  is  with  us  in  sympathy ;  or  rather,  the 
sympathy  of  Christ  works  in  us  by  seeking  to  draw  us  up  above  all 
the  familiar  experiences  of  our  woe  into  his  own  nature  and  charac- 
ter. Our  sorrows  usually  spring  very  largely  from  low  conditions 
of  nature.  And  our  remedy  lies  in  spiritual  exaltation.  Who  is 
there  that  has  not  found  that  a  higher  state  of  feeling  cured  ten 
thousand  vexations  in  life  ?  If  you  were  to  chase  each  particular 
care,  and  each  particular  fret,  and  each  particular  sorrow,  and  each 
particular  stinging  and  annoying  insect,  you  would  have  business  on 
hand  for  the  rest  of  your  life ;  but  if  you  can  rise  into  a  higher  state 
of  mind,  these  cease  to  be  annoyances  and  cares.  Ninety-nine  parts 
in  a  hundred  of  the  cares  of  life  are  cured  by  one  single  salve ;  and 
that  is,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  The  moment  a  man  can  say  that,  and 
let  go,  that  moment  more  than  ninety-nine  parts  in  a  hundred  of  his 
troubles  drop  away. 

I  have  stood  upon  Mount  Holyoke  when  I  heard  the  thunder  be- 
low ;  and  I  have  seen  men  traveling  up  the  side,  and  making  haste  to 
get  out  of  the  storm.  I,  standing  higher  than  they,  escaped  both  the 
rafn,  the  wind,  and  the  pelting  thunder  ;  and  they,  going  up  through 
the  storm,  got  on  the  top,  and  were  also  free  from  it.  Many,  niany 
storms  there  are,  that  lie  low,  and  hug  the  ground ;  and  the  way  to 
escape  them  is  to  go  up  the  mountain  side,  and  get  higher  than 
they  are. 

One  of  the  elements  of  divine  sympathy  is  so  to  sympathize  with 
men  that  they  shall  be  lifted  up  above  the  dominion  of  their  lower 


48  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

instincts  and  ap^jetites,  and  live  more  perfectly  in  their  higher  nature. 
I  di-aw  a  man  out  of  vulgarity  by  making  him  love  me,  and  refine- 
ment in  me.  It  pleases  God  to  make  us  love  the  beauty  of  holiness, 
opening  his  own  nature,  and  showing  the  meaning  of  his  provi- 
dences, and  of  his  dealings  with  us,  and  enlarging  our  experience  in 
such  a  way  that  we  are  growing  toward  a  higher  manhood.  And  so, 
our  troubles,  one  by  one,  coming  from  our  lower  nature,  of  them- 
selves cease,  of  themselves  droj)  away. 

The  teaching  of  some  of  the  passages  in  the  book  from  which  we 
have  taken  our  text  is  directly  upon  this  point — this  memorable  12th 
chapter  of  Hebrews,  which  I  never  can  read  enough  ;  which  I  never 
can  expound  enough ;  which  I  understand  better  every  time  I  read 
it ;  which,  though  I  have  thought  I  understood  it  altogether,  I  find 
each  time  I  am  ignorant  of.  It  is  right  in  the  tenor  of  the  remarks 
that  I  have  been  making. 

"  Looking  i;nto  Jesus,  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  fiiith  ;  .who, 
for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross,  despising  the 
shame,  and  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God" — • 
who  looked  clear  across  and  clear  through  the  world,  and  through 
time,  and  saw  what  were  the  relations  of  events  that  were  going 
on  round  about  him  to  the  eternal  sphere,  and  who  endured  that 
which  seemed  unendurable.  Look  unto  Jdm.,  and  consider  him  that 
endured  all  this,  lest  you  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds.  And 
then  he  says,  "  Ye  have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against 
sin.  And  ye  have  forgotten  the  exhortation  which  speaketh  unto  you 
as  unto  children,  My  son,  despise  not  thou  the  chastening  of  the  Lord, 
nor  faint  when  thou  art  rebuked  of  him  :  for  whom  the  Lord  loveth 
he  chasteneth."  His  is  not  one  of  those  flattering  loves.  His  is  not 
one  of  those  self-indulgent  loves.  AVhom  he  loves,  he  loves  so  much 
that  he  will  not  let  them  abide  in  the  lower  parts  of  their  nature.  He 
will  rout  them  out ;  he  Avill  drive  them  up.  Whom  he  loves  he  means 
to  make  more  of.  He  means  to  ennoble  them.  A  king  ennobles  a 
man  by  putting  a  ci'own  on  his  head ;  but  God  ennobles  men  by 
putting  dispositions  in  their  hearts.  Whom  he  loves  he  chastens 
and  scourges. 

That  is  very  severe.  A  man  may  be  chastised  with  small  whips, 
but  no  man  is  scourged  except  with  cord,  laid  on  with  soldiers' 
hands.  It  is  a  horrible  operation.  God  both  chastens  and  scourges 
men,  and  all  because  he  loves  them. 

Wonderful  love  that  is  !  and  yet  it  is  just  your  love.     You  have  . 
not  a  child  whose  body  is  w^orth  more  to  you  than  his  mind.    No 
child  of  yours  ever  told  a  lie  under  circumstances  of  great  baseness — 
not   for  his  own  benefit,   not  even  for  the  love  of  praise,  but  to 
cheat  and   harm  some  other  child  ;  no  child  of  yours  ever  told  a  lie 


*  TEE  SYMPATHY   OF  CHRIST.  49 

that  was  bad  in  itself,  and  foi*  a  purpose  that  Avas  worse  than  the 
lie — no  child  of  yours  ever  did  that,  that  you  did  not  feel  rising 
against  him  an  utter  indignation,  not  because  you  hated  the  cliild, 
but  because  you  loved  him.  All  your  identification  with  the  child 
plead  for  punishment.  You  said,  "  It  is  my  child ;  and  he  is  not  wor- 
thy of  me  ;  and  he  shall  be  worthy  of  me."  And  you  chastised  him, 
not  once,  as  if  it  were  a  perfunctory  duty,  as  if  you  were  saying 
your  prayers,  but  repeatedly.  Oh  !  how  heartily  does  a  man  lay  on 
the  sti'okes  who  loves  his  child,  and  wants  him  to  be  noble,  pure,  man- 
ly, and  fit  to  wear  a  crown,  though  he  may  never  touch  it  till  he  gets 
to  heaven.  How  he  puts  it  on  when  he  does  whip  his  child !  How  does 
he,  as  it  were,  mean  to  drive  through- every  stroke,  that  while  it  ex- 
coriates the  skin  it  may  cleanse  the  heart,  acting  as  a  counter  irrita- 
tion toward  righteousness  !  And  Christ  says  that  his  sympathy  with 
us  is  not  the  sympathy  of  an  efiervescent  feeling,  merely  going  with  us 
when  we  have  a  momentary  joy,  or  a  momentary  throb  of  pain.  His 
sympathy  is  larger  than  that.  He  sympathizes  with  our  understand- 
ing, with  our  moral  sense  and  conscience,  with  our  taste,  with  all 
our  sentiments,  with  hoj)e,  and  fear,'  and  love  ;  with  every  thing  that 
goes  to  make  up  a  man,  and  that  makes  him  immortal.  He  sympa- 
thizes with  the  whole  of  our  being,  and  means  that  his  whole  ad- 
ministration, and  the  administration  of  our  sorrows  as  well,  shall 
make  our  manhood  larger — not  tear  it ;  not  kill  it ;  not  strip  and  re- 
duce it,  but  make  it  larger. 

As  I  was  reading,  "  For  they" — that  is,  our  parents — "  verily,  for 
a  few  days  chastened  us  after  their  own  pleasure."  Great  pleasure 
they  had  in  it,  if  they  felt  as  I  did  !  I  would  rather  be  whipped  any 
time  than  whi^D  my  children.  And  Avhen  my  flxther  used  to  say, 
"  Henry,  I  do  not  want  to  do  it,"  I  used  to  say  to  myself,  "  AVhat  un- 
der heaven  do  you  do  it  for,  then  ?"  I  did  not  want  to  be  whipped ; 
and  if  he  did  not  want  to  whip  me,  it  seemed  to  me  a  very  unneces- 
sary ceremony !  But  when  I  became  a  fother,  I  felt  that  nothing 
in  the  world  was  more  true.  How  one  feeling  interprets  another !  When 
I  had  children  to  bring  up,  they  so  far  inherited  my  nature,  that  they 
deserved  to  be  whipped  often  ;  and  they  got  their  deserts  !  It  was 
true  I  would  rather  have  taken  five  blows  than  to  have  given  one ; 
and  yet  I  put  it  on  to  them.  And  I  remembered  the  ]Dreccj)t,  "  What 
your  hand  finds  to  do,  do  it  with  your  might."  Do  not  you  know 
what  that  is  ?  Are  you  not  familiar  with  both  sides  of  the  expe- 
rience ?  Paul  says,  "  We  have  had  fathers  of  our  flesh  which  correc- 
ted us,  and  we  gave  them  reverence :  shall  we  not  much  rather  be 
in  subjection  unto  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  live  ?  For  they  verily 
for  a  few  days  chastened  us  after  their  own  pleasure  ;  but  he" — God 
— "  for  our  profit,  that  we  might  be  partakers  of  his  holiness." 


50  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  » 

Here  is  the  end  for  which  he  is  chastising  us — that  we  might  be 
partakers  of  his  nature  ;  that  he  might  lift  us  up  into  the  fullness  of 
that  manhood  which  he  designed  for  us,  and  for  which  he  is  adminis- 
tering the  realm  of  nature,  and  the  realm  of  society,  and  the  realm 
of  grace,  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

And  this  is  not  peculiar  to  Paul;  for  you  will  find  in  2d  Peter  pre- 
cisely the  same  thought  when,  in  opening  his  epistle,  he  says,  "  Grace 
and  peace  be  multiplied  unto  you  through  the  knowledge  of  God, 
and  of  Jesus  our  Lord,  according  as  his  divine  power  hath  given 
unto  us  all  things  that  pertain  unto  life  and  godliness,  through  the 
knowledge  of  him  that  hath  called  us  to  glory  and  virtue :  whereby 
are  given  unto  us  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises :  that  by 
these  ye  might  be  partakers  of  the  divine  nature,  having  escaped  the 
corruption  that  is  in  the  world  through  lust." 

Here  is  the  end  that  God  is  driving  at  continually,  by  such  a 
grand  sympathy,  by  such  a  tender  personal  connection  with  us,  by 
such  a  constant  interference  and  meddling  with  all  that  belongs  to 
us,  that  we  shall  not  be  thralled  in  lusts  and  the  lower  parts  of  our 
nature,  and  dejjart  from  his  will,  and  inherit  the  final  remuneration  ; 
but  that  we  shall  escape,  and  go  up  and  be  made  partakers  of  the  di- 
vine nature. 

Add  still  further  to  this  idea  the  consideration  that,  in  the  divine 
mind,  sympathy  must  take  on  the  whole  sj^here  of  time  in  its  infinite 
relations  to  the  future.  And  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  sympa- 
thize Avith  us  as  we  do  with  each  other,  who  live  in  hours  ;  who  live 
in  weeks ;  who  live  in  years.  But  there  are  no  cycles  and  gradations 
of  time  in  Him  who  liveth  forever,  nor  in  us  when  we  are  consid- 
ered from  the  same  stand-point — the  stand-point  of  the  divine  mind. 
God  looks  upon  human  life  as  rolling  on  to  be  endless  ;  and  therefore 
he  has  regard  to  that  which  is  best  for  us  in  all  coming  time  ;  to  that 
which  shall  make  us  meet  for  heaven  ;  to  that  which  shall  make  us 
the  best  companions  for  holy  men,  for  saints,  for  all  that  are  purified, 
and  have  gone  home  to  gloiy.  God's  sympathy,  if  true  and  gen- 
uine, must  have  regard  to  these  things. 

I  bless  God  that  we  may  rise  from  the  lower  conceptions  of  di- 
vine sympathy  to  these  higher  amd  nobler  attributes  of  it,  and  feel 
that  we  are  in  the  hands  of  a  Saviour  who  knows  us  altogether,  and 
who  indicates  how  minute  his  knowledge  is  by  saying  that  the  very 
hairs  of  our  head  are  numbered.  Put  that  down  in  your  book,  phi- 
losopher, who  believe  that  that  God  only  takes  a  general  view  of  the 
world,  who  declares  that  he  does  not  allow  a  sparrow  to  fall  to  the 
ground  without  his  notice.  Now,  sparrows  are  the  nuisances  of  birds 
in  some  countries.  There  are  so  many  in  England  that  men  form 
"  sparrow-clubs  "  to  go  out  and  kill  them.     They  eat  up  every  thing. 


TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  51 

These  sparrows,  that  are  regarded  very  much  as  we  regard  vermin 
in  an  infested  kitchen,  ai-e  not  without  God's  thought.  Not  even  a 
fly — about  the  most  useless  and  vexatious  creature  on  the  wing — is 
killed  that  God  does  not  know  it. 

Such  is  the  minuteness,  the  intimacy  of  the  divine  sympathy 
with  us.  And  yet,  beginning  at  that  point,  knowing  every  throb, 
knowing  every  pulsation,  knowing  every  sympathy,  every  sentiment, 
every  inflection  of  taste,  every  yearning,  every  disai^pointment, 
every  pang,  every  tear,  every  joy,  every  triumph,  all  that  belongs  to 
the  infinite  variety  of  human  experience,  God,  looking  upon  the  whole 
of  it,  and  watching  all,  and  being  familiar  with  all,  and  sympathizing 
with  all,  is  still  adniinistering  them  all  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring 
us  higher  and  higher  in  ourselves  on  earth,  and  higher  and  higher 
into  his  likeness,  and  preparing  us  better  and  better  for  dwelling  wi,th 
him  forever  and  forever — that  is  the  sympathy  that  I  want. 

A  little  child,  dropped  as  a  waif  in  New- York,  alas !  made  beau- 
tiful, now  coming  to  be  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  without 
friends,  and  with  many  that  have  lustful  eyes  upon  her,  is  met  by 
the  gracious  missionary  at  the  "  Five  Points."  And  he  beholds  her, 
and  his  heart  yearns  toward  her.  He  finds  out  where  she  lives,  in 
her  little  chamber,  as  yet  not  quite  fallen,  not  quite  overborne,  yet 
coarse  and  rude,  and  already  beginning  to  love  the  taste  of  the  poison 
of  flattery  ;  already  beginning  to  listen  willingly  ;  already  beginnino- 
to  calculate  and  to  throb  evil  thoughts.  He  looks  upon  her,  and  is  sad 
for  her.  While  others  would  open  her  chamber  door,  and  endeavor 
to  persuade  her  to  dismiss  her.  industry ;  while  othei's  say  to  her,* 
"  Go,  flutter,  and  be  gay  :  take  life  and  enjoy  it  while  you  may,"  he 
loves  her  more  than  they  do.  They  love  as  the  swine  loves  the  husk, 
which  he  chews  for  the  juice,  and  spits  out  a  rejected  cud;  but 
he  loves  that  child  with  a  consciousness  of  what  her  immortality  is  ; 
of  what  is  the  treasure  of  the  riches  that  is  in  her,  if  only  it  can  be 
saved  and  educated.  And  he  would  shut  the  door.  They  would 
open  it.  He  would  rather  see  her  weep.  They  would  rather  see  her 
laugh.  He  would  rather  see  her  sufifer,  and  go  poorly  clad.  They 
would  be  glad  if  she  would  take  temptation  under  the  proflTer  of  rib- 
bons and  jewelry.  They  would  be  glad  to  see  her  dressed  in  all  these 
gew-gaw  trifles.  He,  gaining  influence  with  her,  seems  to  her,  in  her 
moments  of  temptation,  like  a  hard  master.  And  yet,  tell  me,  if  it 
was  your  child,  and  if,  after  years  had  passed  by,  you  found  that  this 
wanderer  from  your  house  had  been  saved  by  this  missionary,  and 
brought  up  in  cramped  circumstances,  and  fiimiliar  with  poverty,  and 
that  he  had  been  a  faithful  teacher  to  her,  so  that  at  length,  when  sho 
reached  her  majority,  she  was  still  a  virtuous  woman,  and  beginning 
to  love  virtue  more  than  vice,  would  you  not  say  that  he  had  been 


52  TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

the  truest  sympathizer?     And  who  would  sympathize  most  with 
you  ?    Would  it  be  that  "indulgent  Deity"  who  should  make  the  pre- 
sent hour  pleasant  to  you,  and  leave  you  to  the  waste  of  an  eternal 
undoing  ?   or  would  it  be  One  who  loved  you  so  much  that  he  was 
willino-  to  administer  discipline  and  watching  and  pain,  and  Avring 
tears,  that  through  those  tears  he  might  open  the  fountain  of  future 
joys  ?     Is  not  that  the  divinest  and  the  truest  sympathy  ?    Are  there 
any  of  us  that  do  not  need  just  such  a  friend  as  this  in  Christ  Jesus  ? 
In  view  of  the  unfolding  of  the  subject  so  far,  I  remark,  first,  that 
we  can  see  why  God  seems  sometimes  to  shut  his  ears  to  men's  cries. 
It  is  because  they  come  asking  God  to  replace  the  very  things  that  he 
has  taken  away  from  them  on  purpose.     Men  ask,  "  Do  you  believe 
in  a  prayer  of  faith  ?"     I  can  hardly  answer  that,  because  there  is  so 
much  to  be  said  on  the  subject  that  you  can  never  get  it  into  a  single 
answer.     If  you  say,  "  Yes,  I  do,"  then  the  man  that  is  just  bank- 
rupt begins  to  pray  a  prayer  of  faith,  and  says,  "  If  ever  I  prayed,  it 
was  when  I  said,  '  Lord  God,  look  on  my  family  ;  look  on  me  ;  si^are 
us,  and  save  us.'     And  he  did  not  hear."     But  let  me  rise  into  the 
counsel  of  God,  who  loved  that  man,  and  loved  his  household,  and 
beheld  in  his  great  and  growing  riches  the  destruction  of  his  child- 
ren.   His  wealth  was  already  untempcring  his  heart.    He  was  becom- 
ing large  for  this  world,  and  small  for  the  other.     And  God  so  loved 
him  that  he  said,  "  Let  me  save  those  children,  and  let  me  spare  the 
man."     And  he  smote  the  four  corners  of  his  prosperity,  and  it  was 
Avhistled  away  as  dust  before  the  wind.     It  takes  a  man  a  great 
while  to  get  rich,  but  it  takes  him  only  a  minute  to  get  poor,  in  this 
world.     And  so  the  man  goes  on  praying  that  God  would  restore  his 
property  to  him.     "  No,"  says  God,  if  you  could  only  hear  him,  "  I 
am  going  to  give  your  son  back.     He  is  already  beginning  to  think 
that,  having  a  rich  father,  he  will  never  want  for  money,  and  is  going 
straight  to  the  devil.     I  am  going  to  give  you  back  that  child."     But 
the  man  does  not  hear,  and  he  says,  "  O  Lord  !  give  me  back  my 
property."     "  No,"  says  God,  "  I  am  going  to  give  you  back  your 
oldest  daughter,  who  has  been  living  for  the  vanity  of  this  world,  and 
thinking  that  it  made  very  little  difference   to   her  Avhat  she  did, 
or  what  she  had,  since  she  was  well  provided  for,  well-off,  and  that 
life  was  all  smiling  for  her.     I  am  going  to  make  her  understand 
that  there  is  a  burden  and  a  work  for  her.     I  am  going  to  bring 
down  the  most  heavenly  inspirations  upon  that  child's  soul.     I  am 
going  to  give  that  daughter  back  again  to  you.      Still  the  man  hears 
it  not,and  says,  "  Oh  !  give  me  back  my  property."    But  God  is  giving 
back  child  after  child,  and  himself  withal.     After  ten  years,  he  is  a 
poor  man  still ;  but  he  is  a  wiser  man.     He  is  the  man  of  Avhom  the 
neighbors  say,  "  He  is  a  great  deal  better  than  he  used  to  be  when  he 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST.  53 

had  money ;  and  he  is  doing  a  great  deal  more  good  than  he  used  to 
do." 

"VYhen  wheat  is  growing,  it  holds  all  its  kernels  tight  in  its  own 
ear.  But  when  it  is  ripe,  the  kernels  are  scattered  every  whither, 
aiid  it  is  only  the  straw  that  is  left.  But  where  are  the  seeds  ?  One 
is  growing  here,  another  is  growing  there,  and  another  there.  It 
multiplies  itself  forty-fold  when  it  is  shredded  and  sj^oiled  as  an  eai". 
It  is  the  cause  of  life  to  twenty  or  thirty  other  roots  and  stems  ;  and 
it  multi2:)lies  itself  by  what  it  has  lost.  And  so  it  is  with  us  in  tliis 
world.  Are  there  not  a  great  many  things  that  you  pray  to  God 
for?  When  a  child  says,  "Will  God  give  me  any  thing  that  I  ask 
him  for  ?"  and  the  mother  says,  "  Yes,"  he  says,  "  Then  I  am  going  to 
ask  him  to  give  me  a  great  big  apjjle."  (This  is  one  of  the  precious 
Sunday-school  stories  !)  And  men  pray  in  like  manner,  asking  God 
for  what  they  tvant,  and  he  is  answering  by  giving  them  what  they 
ought  to  want. 

"  No  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  griev- 
ous :  nevei'theless,  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of 
righteousness  unto  them  which  are  exercised  thereby."  If  you  fight 
it,  if  you  harden  yourself  under  it,  it  does  not  do  you  any  good ; 
but  if  you  are  "  exercised  "  by  it,  and  you  let  it  work  in  you  and  de- 
velop your  better  manhood,  then,  afterward,  it  does  work  out  in 
you  "  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness."  This  is  one  reason  why 
God  seems  not  to  answer  men,  and  sympathize  with  them. 

We  see,  also,  why  God  seems  so  slow  in  succoring  men  that  call 
upon  him.  It  is  not  because  he  is  lax  in  sympathy,  but  because  time 
must  bring,  often,  what  we  ask.  By  prayer  I  can  not  carry  forward 
the  seasons.  I  can  not  j^rai/  in  the  spring.  With  the  good  old  puri- 
tan, on  the  first  day  in  April  I  can  pray  that  God  will  bless  the  sea- 
son and  the  seed ;  but  I  can  not  hasten  April  or  May.  I  can  not 
bring  forward  June.  I  can  plant  my  seed  ;  but  I  must  wait  until 
nature  nourishes  the  seed,  and  brings  it  into  ripeness.  There  is 
much  that  God  is  doing  through  the  element  of  time.  And  God  is 
not  slow  to  hear  because  the  blessing  is  delayed  in  the  coming.  It 
is  all  the  better  the  longer  it  takes  to  come. 

We  see,  also,  the  reach  and  application  of  the  fact  that  divine 
love  does  not  so  much  care  to  make  men  happy  now  as  to  secure 
their  happiness  in  the  life  that  is  to  come.  I  do  not  mean  that  there 
is  an  ascetic. element  in  the  Gospel.  I  do  not  mean  that  it  is  not  a 
part  of  the  divine  plan  to  have  a  new  heaven  on  earth,  a  new  earth 
in  which  shall  dwell  righteousness,  and  that  there  will  not  be  perfect 
happiness  in  that  final  day ;  but  now,  as  the  world  is,  and  as  the  con- 
flict goes  on  in  the  world,  it  is  far  more  important  that  men  should 
be  made  manly  and  pure  and  Christ-like  than  that  they  should  be 


54  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHRIST. 

made  happy  to-day  or  to-morrow — except  so  far  as  happiness  may  be 
blessed  as  an  instrument  of  righteousness.     And  therefore  it  is  that  di- 
vine love  is  not  to  be  inferred  from  the  presence  of  joy  altogether. 
Nor  is  the  business  of  sympathy  to  be  inferred  from  the  want  of  joy 
and  prosperity.     God  is  administering  for  something  other  and  higher. 
We  also  understand,  if  this  be  so,  that  men  are  continually  falling 
out  with  God  ;  that  men  are  continually  getting  into  trouble.     There 
are  two  systems  at  work — one  which  is  supervising  the  events  of  hu- 
man life  with  reference  to  their  final  reward  in  heaven ;  and  another 
in  which  we  are  seeking  to  gather  out  of  each  day  the  harvest  that 
belongs  to  that  day.     We  are  legislating  for  time  and  for  eternity. 
We  have  our  condition  meet  for  our  chai'acter.     We  work  for  the 
sake  of  joy — God  for  the  sake  of  purity ;    we   for   abundance — he 
for  moral  nobleness.     These  two  administrations  are  constantly  com- 
ing into  conflict  of  jurisdiction.     One  or  the  other  must  have  superi- 
ority.    The  secret  of  more  than  half  our  trouble  in  life  is,  that  we  are 
attempting   to   shape  our  life  for  the  world;   and  God,  who  loves 
us,  is  attempting  to  overrule  that  bad  enginery,  and  to  shape  our  life 
for  the  glory  of  the  eternal  world.     And  so  much  of  suffering  as  I  see 
in  life  I   sympathize  with — and  I    do  not !     When  an  organ  is  at 
concert-pitch,  every  thing  else  has  got  to  come  up  to  it — and  the  in- 
strument is  generally  at  concert-pitch.      Some  note  by  and  by  falls 
away ;  and  then,  when  the  stop  is  drawn,  and  the  scale  is  played, 
every  time  that  note  comes  in,  it  wails.    Why  ?    Because  all  the  other 
notes  are  against  it,  you  would  think.     So  they  are,  when  a  note  is 
out  of  tune.     Once  hare  a  string  of  a  violin  below  pitch,  and  all  the 
three  other  strings  are  fighting  it.     Let  one  note  of  a  piano  be  out  of 
tune,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  piano  is  at  enmity  with  it.  If  one  pipe  of  an 
organ  is  out  of  tune,  all  the  rest  of  the  organ  is  against  it.     That 
note  wails,  and  wails,  and  all  the  other  notes  are  sweet-sounding.    By 
and  by,  the  hand  of  the  tuner  begins  to  bring  it  up  ;  and  up  and  up  it 
goes,  crying  and  whining ;   but  the  moment  it  touches  the  concert- 
pitch,  it  falls  in,  and  there  is  no  longer  any  conflict  of  one  note  with 
the  other.     The  moment   it  comes  into  harmony,  there  is  no  longer 
any  "  wolfing "  of  vibrations,  no  longer  any  turmoil.     It  is  in  tune. 
And  the  sorrows  and  troubles  of  this  world  are  but  just  discordant 
wails  that  men  make  when  God  takes  them  and  attempts   to  bring 
them  up  into  harmony  by  bringing  them  to  concert-j^itch. 

Now,  I  am  sorry  for  suflering;  but  I  am  heartily  glad  that  God  is 
willing  to  make  men  suffer.  I  am  glad  to  see  men  whose  pride  does  not 
satisfy  them.  I  am  glad  to  see  men  whose  selfishness  does  not  make 
them  happy.  I  am  hurt  when  I  see  too  much  joy  -with  sensuousness ; 
but  I  rejoice  when  I  see  men  vexed  and  plagued — men  who  are  fol- 
lowing the  bent  of  their  lower  nature. 


THE  SYMPATHY   OF  CHRIST.  55 

"  I,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "  was  envious  at  the  foolish,  when  I  saw  the 
prosperity  of  the  wicked,"  "Their  eyes  stand  out  with  fatness;  they 
have  more  than  heart  could  wish."  "  Pride  compasseth  them  about  as 
with  a  chain."  ,God  did  not  care  for  them,  it  would  seem.  He  cast 
them  off.  They  were  reprobates.  But  as  for  him,  he  washed  his 
hands  in  innocency.  And  yet  the  waters  of  affliction  rolled  over  him ; 
and  he  moaned  and  pined.  "Why  not  ?  God  was  dealing  with  him 
as  with  a  son.  But  at  last  he  found  out  the  meaning  of  these  things. 
When  "I  went  into  the  sanctuary,  then  I  imderstood  their  end." 
Oh !  what  slippery  places  they  stood  on.  As  for  himself,  he  goes  off 
into  that  sweet  descant  in  which  he  declares  that  God  shall  be  his 
portion  in  time  and  in  eternity.  One  of  the  noblest  and  sweetest  of 
the  Psalms  I  think  is  that.  And  I  see  that  very  Psalm  enacted 
every  day.  Men  in  trouble ;  men  whom  God  is  loving ;  men  that  often- 
times thmk  they  are  set  apart  for  mischief — such  men  God  is  blessing 
and  helping. 

Dear  Christian  brethren,  I  bring  to  your  memory  a  Saviour  who  is 
in  sympathy  and  in  blessed  relations  with  you.  Fall  not  into  that  weak 
and  poor  way  of  thinking  of  the  symj)athy  of  Christ  as  if  it  were  mere- 
ly showering  sunlight  on  you.  God  makes  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  good 
and  on  the  evil  alike.  This  came  to  my  mind  when  I  came  out  into 
the  sunlight  this  morning ;  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  Yes,  there  are  the 
crickets,  there  are  the  mice,  there  are  the  bugs,  there  are  the  wonns, 
there  are  creeping  things  innumerable ;  and  the  sun  does  not  know  how 
to  make  any  difference  between  these  things  and  men.  It  makes  no 
discriminations.  It  shines  on  me,  and  it  shines  on  every  thing  else  just 
as  much."  But  when  my  God  looks  on  me,  I  hope  he  makes  a  dif- 
ference. I  hope,  when  he  administers  toward  me  and  the  brute,  it  is  not 
all  the  same.  I  want  to  feel  that  he  is  pressing  down  the  bad  and  lift- 
ing up  the  good,  in  me.  And  if  it  hurts,  only  let  me  know  what  the 
hmt  means,  and  I  am  willing  to  bear  it.  If  it  is  only  God,  let  him  take 
any  thing  and  every  thing.  Empty  my  crib ;  empty  my  cradle ;  wring 
my  heart ;  shut  me  up ;  do  any  thing— Lord,  God,  love  me,  and  then 
do  any  thing  !  But  give  me  all  the  world,  and  all  that  can  shake  down 
as  from  some  tree  of  paradise  on  my  head ;  and  if  all  I  am  to  have  is 
what  I  can  pick  up  here,  and  pick  up  on  the  ground  at  that.  Lord, 
thou  dost  not  love  me  ! 

To  be  loved  of  God ;  to  be  nurtured  here ;  to  be  disciplined ;  to  be 
taught ;  to  be  prepared  for  the  heavenly  estate,  and  then  go  home  to 
be  present  with  the  Lord  forever — that  is  joy  unspeakable,  as  it  shall 
be  full  of  glory. 

May  God  give  us  this  better  portion,  and  so  may  Christ's  sympa- 
thy make  us  better  men. 


56  TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHBI8T. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOIf. 

O  God  I  we  join  with  those  that  rejoice  this  morning.  If  half  the  joys  that  slumber,  and 
their  occasions  with  us,  were  to  speak  forth,  what  words  would  suffice  ?  How  all  our  life,  as  we 
look  back  upon  it,  from  the  stand  of  thine  own  counsels,  glitters  before  us  as  the  lawn  in  the 
summer  morning.  Every  blade  of  grass,  and  every  flower  full  of  dew,  and  all  the  dew  full  of  the 
sun,  and  the  sun,  speak  of  thee  !  How  is  our  whole  life  an  argument  of  thy  wisdom  1  And  be- 
cause it  seems  dark,  it  is  divine;  since  thou  dost  not  work  upon  patterns  so  small  as  ours,  nor 
dost,  when  thy  hand  sweeps,  measure  the  sight  of  our  eye,  but  the  infinite  reach  of  thine  own 
Thy  wonders  and  thy  workings  are  ever  so  far  beyond  our  thought,  but  the  ends  of  thy  ways  are 
apparent  to  us.  And  yet,  at  times  we  see  along  the  courses  of  our  experience  such  evident  marks 
of  thy  divine  mercy  and  goodness  that  we  marvel  that  we  were  ever  dissatisfied.  We  marvel  that 
we  were  not  glad  evermore.  We  wonder  that  we  ever  distrusted.  We  dismiss  with  indignation 
all  fear  and  all  doubt ;  and  to  ourselves,  then,  we  seem  as  bu-ds  that  have  lifted  themselves  far 
above  the  thicket,  and  sing  in  the  serene  and  upper  air  without  obstruction.  So  have  we  been 
iifted  up  ;  and,  chased  back  again  by  hawking*  enemies,  we  have  hid  ;  and  hiding,  been  dark- 
ling ;  and  soon,  overthro^vn  in  our  sadness,  we  mourned  and  wondered — wondered  if  there  be  a 
God,  wondered  if  there  be  immortality ;  wondered  at  things  as  strange  round  about  us,  though 
familiar.  We  questioned  thee ;  questioned  the  wisdom  of  all  thy  ways.  And  we  so  disturbed 
ourselves,  and  disquieted  our  spirits  within  us,  that  we  had  no  more  in  God,  but  walked  in  the 
Bolitude  of  our  own  orphanage.  Then,  O  God !  thou  hast  had  mercy  upon  us ;  and  we  have  been 
■as  children  that  wandered  in  the  darkness,  in  the  woods,  and  alone ;  and  we  have  been  found 
of  th^e— we,  that  could  not  find  thee.  Thou  hast  shone  again,  we  know  not  how.  By  the  en- 
ginery of  no  arguments  of  ours,  by  no  power  that  we  could  bring  to  bear,  didst  thou  come  forth. 
We  love  thee,  because  thou  hast  loved  us  ;  and  we  found  thee,  because  we  were  found  of  thee. 

So  thou  hast  been  dealing  with  us,  carrying  us  from  year  to  year,  until  the  present  hour. 
Would  that  we  had  learned  so  as  never  again  to  repeat  the  mistakes  of  years  ago.  But  still  we 
are  faint,  though  pursuing.  Still  we  are  feeble-minded.  While  we  should  have  been  able  to  teach 
others,  we  needed  that  some  one  should  teach  us.  Still,  we  can  not  cast  away  the  crutch  and  the 
staff.  We  have  not  learned  to  lean  upon  the  invisible  yet.  Our  eyes  and  our  ears  do  crave  food. 
We  are  ashamed  to  confess  it,  but  if  thou  wert  only  present  as  a  man,  our  faith,  helped  by  sight, 
would  mount  vehement  and  strong.  We  are  yet  not  so  weaned  from  our  senses  that  we  can  take  ir. 
that  spiritual  life,  and  the  nutriment  of  truths  spiritual,  and  live  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 

O  thou  that  dost  pity  our  infirmity,  and  exi^erience  sympathy  for  us,  and  behold,  and  spare, 
and  love,  and  forgive,  what  need  have  we  to  recite  our  manifold  wickedness  and  transgression  ? 
It  is  all  before  thee.  For  they  that  transgress  are  as  shrubs  that  are  full  of  thorns  to  men  that 
handle  them.  We  are  filled  with  spines ;  and  yet,  thou  art  as  a  gardener  constantly  tending 
and  pruning  us.  We  pierce  thy  hands  with  our  sins.  We  are  every  day  grieving  thee.  As  they 
that  are  vulgar  in  our  presence  offend  us  ;  as  they  that  are  rude  and  boisterous  disturb  the  peace 
and  the  quietude  of  refinement ;  as  they  that  are  selfish  are  hateful  to  the  beneficent ;  as  the  lowly 
seem  to  the  proud  wondrously  imcouth ;  so  we,  in  our  unformed  nature,  are  to  thee.  And  yet, 
with  unfolding  and  infolding  tenderness,  wondrous  beyond  all  human  conception,  thou  art  pa. 
tient,  and  dost  love  unloveliness,  and  dost  fashion  uncouthness.  Thou  art  the  Teacher.  •  We  are 
the  poor  scholars,  learning  slowly,  still  refusing  to  practice  what  we  learn,  too  often.  And  yet, 
we  live  by  the  great  bounty  of  thy  sufferance.  And  thou  sparest,  us,  though  the  work  is  slow, 
because  there  are  many  summers  yet.  Thou  art  still  bringing  to  bear  a  thousand  influences  that 
gradually  ameliorate,  though  we  will  not  hear  thy  voice.    And  thou  art  not  judging  us  as  we  are 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHPdST.  57 

now,  but  as  thou  seest  that  we  shall  be  when  thy  work  is  completed.  What  strange  beauty  afar 
off  dawns  to  thine  eye  behind  our  ugliness !  How  wondrous  must  we  seem  that  are  now  all 
blemish,  seen  as  we  shall  appear  when  without  blemish  or  imperfection  thou  shalt  present  us 
to  the  throne  of  thy  Father  !  O  wonder-working  Saviour !  still  abide  with  us  ;  still  bear  our  infir- 
mities ;  still  forgive  our  sms  ;  still  give  us  joy  for  sorrow — such  joy  as  will  lead  us  above  secular 
sorrow.  And  grant  that  the  life  which  we  now  live  in  the  flesh  we  may  live  by  faith  ia  the  Son 
of  God. 

And  what  can  we  render  ?  What  is  it  that  we  sing  to  thee  ?  Oh  !  that  oiir  lives  might  be  sing- 
ing to  thee.  May  we  draw  forth  every  power  of  our  nature,  and  consecrate  it  to  the  uses  for 
which  thou  art  thyself  living.  May  we  not  be  proud  of  our  understanding  as  ours,  but  seek 
rather  how  mightily  it  may  be  consecrated  to  God's  work  among  men.  Hast  thou  given  us  any 
gift  of  deep  heartiness  ;  any  gift  of  consolation  ;  any  gift  of  song ;  any  gift  of  skill  in  the  hand ; 
any  gift  of  wisdom  and  prudence  ?  May  we  seek  not  so  much  to  adorn  ourselves  with  praise  for 
having  these  things,  as  to  Iniow  how  with  them  we  shall  praise  Him  that  loved  us,  and  gave  him 
self  for  us.  So  may  we  bring  every  thing  which  we  have,  every  day ;  and  may  our  very  powers 
and  gifts  become  more  precious  in  our  sight.  May  we  take  them  from  thine  hand  every  day,  and 
consecrate  them,to  thy  use.  We  pray  that  we  may  be  kept  from  that  pride,  and  that  vanity,  and 
that  selfishness,  and  that  worldliness,  whi(;h  won  ^^Teck  the  purity  of  the  soul.  And  may  we 
learn  to  find  a  present  Saviour  every  day  and  every  hour.  May  we  find  thee  in  every  place  and  in 
all  things.  And  so  may  oiu*  spu-itual  eye,  enlightened  and  purified,  see  wondrous  things  in  thy 
great  world,  and  in  our  part  of  human  life.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  accept  the  glad- 
ness of  the  hour  in  all  thy  people  everywhere.  We  thank  thee,  though  men  are  divided  in  this 
world,  opposing  each  other,  and  separating  further  and  further  too  often*  that  invisibly  thou  art 
di-awing  them  together,  and  that  the  voice  of  praise  and  of  joy,  going  up,  enters,  as  the  voice 
of  one  people,  and  of  one  church  upon  earth.  United  are  they  in  their  prayers,  united  in  their 
faith,  united  in  their  love,  united  in  all  their  hopes,  united  in  that  part  which  escapes  from  the 
rudeness  and  coarseness  of  life,  and  comes  up  before  thee.  Thy  people  are  all  one.  Grant,  we 
beseech  of  thee,  that  we  may  enter  into  these  higher  conceptions  of  unity,  and  rejoice  in  that 
coming  day  when  it  shall  grow  more  and  more  toward  outward  things,  and  thy  people  shall  be 
united  in  all  the  earth  before  men. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  thy  cause  in  all  places  of  the  earth.  Eemember  our  own  land. 
Quicken  the  hearts  of  thy  people,  that  they  may  give  liberally  and  labor  abundantly  for  the  spread 
of  knowledge,  of  intelligence,  of  virtue.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  still  redeem  this  land  from 
coarse  secular  prosperity,  and  build  it  up  in  a  holy  faith,  and  in  the  purity  of  the  Gospel. 

Remember,  we  pray  thee,  all  the  peoples  that  are  struggling  for  their  manhood.  Be  thou  on 
the  side  of  the  weak.  Hold  thou  the  sword  of  mighty  armies  invisible.  Fight  for  them  that 
fight  for  the  liberty  of  being  men,  and  uphold  them.  And  we  pray  that  the  day  may  come  when 
men  shall  be  so  wi^,  so  intelligent,  so  virtuous,  so  large  by  growth  in  true  manhood,  that  no 
power  shall  be  found  adequate  to  hold  them  fast  in  any  prison,  or  in  any  tyranny.  So  cause  the 
people  to  grow  that  there  shall  be  found  none  but  God  strong  enough  or  wise  enough  to  rule 
them.  Rule  thou  them.  Come  again.  Lord  God,  by  thy  dear  Saviour,  to  reign  a  thousand  years 
«pon  the  earth.  And  let  all  names  and  all  nations,  all  magistrates  and  all  kings,  praise  thee,  and 
itU  people  see  thy  salvation. 

Which  we  ask  in  the  name  of  the  Beloved.    Amen. 


58  TEE  SYMPATHY  OF  CHBIST. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE   SERMOIf. 

OuE  Father,  wilt  thou  bless  the  word  which  we  have  spoken,  and  the  truth  on  which  It  Is 
based  ?  Grant  to  every  one  some  comfort,  some  enlightenment,  some  incitement  to  further  fidel- 
ity. Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  thy  providences,  and  thy  gracious  dealings  with  thy  people, 
may  be  interpreted  to  their  faith.  May  they  rejoice  not  when  com  and  wine  increase,  not  because 
they  are  strong  in  wealth  or  in  wisdom,  but  in  this — that  the  Lord  is  their  God.  And  we  be- 
seech of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  day,  and  bless  all  our  homes,  and  all  our  experiences  this  day. 
And  finally  bring  us  into  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God  in  heaven ;  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.    Amen. 


lY. 

Retribution  and  Reformation. 


CERTAIITY  OF  RETRIBUTIOiX 


AJtUD 


POSSIBILITY    OF    REFORM 

SUNDAY    EVENING,   APRIL    4,   18G9. 


I  "WISH  to  read,  and  comment  upon,  the  narrative,  or  a  part  of  the 
narrative,  contained  in  the  32d  chapiter  of  Genesis. 

It  is  one  j^eriod  of  the  life  of  Jacob,  one  of  the  patriarchs.  I  love 
to  go  back  to  these  old  times  so  diiferent  from  our  own  ;  of  another 
civilization  ;  of  a  different  stage  of  the  development  of  the  human 
family;  with  a  household  organized  after  a  diflerent  pattern ;  before 
the  day  when  there  were  churches;  while  as  yet  there  were  no 
schools,  no  books,  scarcely  a  manuscript — in  the  early  twilight  day. 
There'is  something  good  in  getting  out  of  familiar  life,  which  at  last 
tends  to  vulgarize  tli,e  feelings.  I  remember  full  well  how,  in  sum- 
mers, after  the  heat  set  in,  I  have  betaken  myself  to  the  mountain 
country,  and  climbed  to  tlie  top  of  some  high  mountain,  some  Mount 
"Washington.  "With  what  an  inexjjressible  delight  I  sat  in  its  still- 
ness, far  above  the  circumjacent  land,  far  above  the  city,  the  village, 
the  hamlets,  and  looked  out  and  down  upon  all  these  things  which 
seemed  to  me  like  a  vision  and  a  dream!  And  to  sit  alone,  and  to  look 
at  these,  was  itself  a  refreshment  and  a  profit  to  my  spirit  greater' than 
I  can  describe.  Somewhat  in  the  same  way  it  affects  me  to  go-  back 
to  these  early  periods  of  the  human  fiimily,  to  get  apart  from  that 
which  is  flimiliar,  and  look  out  again  from  this  distant  stand-point 
over  the  life  which  we  are  now  living. 

You  are  familiar  with  the  history  of  Esau  and  Jacob.  You  will 
recollect  how,  by  birthright,  Esau,  by  the  custom  of  his  country, 
should  have  had  precedence ;  how  by  the  craft  of  Jacob's  mother,  in 
collusion  with  himself,  Esau  was  defrauded  of  his  birthright;  how 
Jacob  inherited  his  father's  blessing,  and  the  wrath  of  his  justly  in- 
censed brother ;  and  how  he  was  obliged  to  make  haste  and  flee  ©ut 
of  the  house  and  out  of  the  country,  and  to  become  an  exile  for  some 
years  in  Syria. 

It  strikes  a  great  many  persons  with  surprise  that  Jacob  the  sup- 
planter  should  have  been  the  chosen  of  God.      There  is  a  certain 

Lesson:  Psalm  xxxii.    Htmns,  (Plymouth  Collection) :  199,  732, 1353. 


60  BETBIBUTION  AND   REF0BMAT102T. 

rough,  blunt  audacity,  there  is  a  certain  ready  courage,  iu  Esau — a 
kind  of  prompt  vigor,  somewhat  allied  to  honesty— which  at  first  at- 
tracts toward  him.  And  one  thinks  that  such  a  hearty  fellow  as  he 
was,  should  have  been  allowed  to  stand  in  his  own  place ;  and  that 
that  sneaking,  crawling,  crafty,  politic.  Machiavellian  Jacob  should 
never  have  been  permitted  to  have  his  own  way.  And  that  God 
chose  this  managing  politician,  and  made  him  the  patriarch,  setting 
aside  this  robust,  honest  fellow  of  the  wilderness,  strikes  a  great 
many  persons  with  surprise.  And  if  it  had  turned  on  religious  cha- 
racter, it  might  have  admitted  of  a  question  as  to  whether  the  choice 
was  all  that  we  should  have  made.  But  I  think  before  the  history  of 
the  evening  is  fiuished,  you  will  find  that  in  Jacob  there  were  ele- 
ments of  chai-acter  which,  though  they  were  developed  later,  were  far 
more  noble.  They  were  late  in  coming  up  ;  but  their  fruit  was  worth 
the  waiting  for. 

The  true  answer  to  this  marvel  is,  that  God  selects  men  for  his 
work  on  earth,  not  on  account  of  their  personal  agreeableness,  but  on 
account  of  their  adaptation  to  the  work  that  tliey  have  to  perform. 
A  man  may  be  a  most  pleasant  companion  in  the  household,  but  a 
poor  general  in  the  field.  A  general  that  leads  an  army  tlirough 
difliculties  Herculean  to  success  may  be,  after  all,  a  very  disagreeable 
messmate.  A  man's  companionable  qualities  — his  society  qualities — 
may  be  of  one  kind,  and  yet  his  talent  and  adaptations  to  a  work 
which  Divine  Providence  has  in  hand  may  be  eminent. 

Now,  the  object  in  this  case  was,  to  establish  a  nation.  There 
was  to  be  brought  uj)  a  great  seed  to  Abraham.  They  were  to  be 
established ;  and  out  of  them  was  to  issue  the  moral  culture  of  the 
globe — as  it  has.  From  the  Greek,  the  sesthetic  and  the  intellectual ; 
from  the  Roman,  the  j^ractical  and  the  juridical ;  from  the  Hebrew,  the 
moral,  life  of  the  world  was  yet  to  come  :  and  the  choice  between  these ' 
two  persons  for  this  work  was  to  be  detei'mined  by  the  question,  not 
Which  has  the  most  impetuous  audacity  ? — that  Avas  not  favorable — 
but  "Which  has  the  organizing  power?  Which  has  the  comprehen- 
siveness of  mind  ?  Which  has  the  patience,  the  wisdom,  the  fore- 
cast ?  Which  has  the  ripening  quality  ?  If  one  was  as  good  in 
the  beginning  as  Esau  was,'  as  ever  he  Avould  be — and  his  good- 
ness was  of  a  very  low  character,  good  for  a  hunter  or  a  parti- 
san chief — how  poor  would  he  have  been  standing  in  the  place  of  an 
organizer  of  a  great  posterity !  But  althougli  Jacob  was  a  nlan  of 
many  failings  and  of  deep  transgressions,  yet  with  them  he  had  a  fore- 
cast, a  shrewdness,  a  persevering  wisdom,  an  organizing  power,  that 
pointed  him  out  as  the  statesman.  And  so  he  was  selected,  not  be- 
cause in  every  respect  his  disposition  was  the  best,  but  because  he 
was  the  best  instrument  to  execute  the  purpose  which  God  had  in 


BETBIBUTIOIT  AND   BEFORJIATION.  61 

view.  The  same  thing  is  taking  place  continuously.  God  employs 
for  his  purposes  instruments  which  are  adapted  to  those  purposes,  al- 
though they  may  not  be  persons  that  are  in  harmony  with  God's  holi- 
ness. 

The  crime  which  he  committed  against  his  brother  banished 
him.  He  was  obliged  to  leave  his  father's  house  in  great  haste.  He 
went  to  his  mother's  relations,  and  formed  a  connection  of  service 
with  Laban.  He  left  his  father's  house,  but  he  did  not  leave  his  crime 
behind  him.  That  followed  him.  Seven  years  he  served  for  the  daugh- 
ter of  Laban,  whom  he  loved.  And  when  at  the  end  of  seven  years 
she  was  given,  to  him,  behold  it  was  her  sister  Leah — not  Rachel. 
He  was  cheated.  The  cheater  was  cheated.  He  had  left  home  seven 
years  before ;  and  these  seven  years  seemed  as  a  day  to  him.  Because 
he  loved  the  damsel,  and  was  serving  her,  these  years  passed  quickly 
by.  It  is  astonishing  how  fast  time  flies  on  the  feet  of  love.  But  he 
was  cheated.  He  was  paid  in  the  very  same  coin  that  he  had  been 
using  at  home.  Men  do  not  leave  their  misdeeds  behind  them  when 
they  travel  away  from  liome.  A  man  that  commits  a  mean  and  wick- 
ed action  carries  that  sin  in  himself  and  with  himself.  He  may  go 
round  the  world,  but  it  goes  round  with  him.  He  does  not  shake  it 
off  by  changing  his  position. 

Fourteen  years  he  tarried  there  and  played  the  same  craft  on  La- 
ban in  another  way  that  Laban  had  played  on  him.  So  cheating  be- 
gets cheating.  Craft  begets  craft  again.  Men  that  are  overreaching 
are  overreached.  Only  Jacob  was  a  little  too  smart  for  him.  He 
won  the  second  daughter.  Then  they  could  no  longer  dwell  in  peace 
together,  and  it  soon  became  necessary  that  he  should  leave.  Accord- 
ingly, arrangements  were  made,  and  they  separated  their  flocks  and 
herds.  Plis  family  had  now  become  somewhat  large,  and  he  journey- 
ed back  again  toward  his  father's  land.  He  had  passed  through 
twenty  years  of  exile.  That  was  a  great  many  years.  It  ought  to 
have  worn  off  a  great  deal,  and  buried  a  great  deal.  But  when  he 
set  his  face  to  go  back  again  to  his  father's  land,  the  very  first  expe- 
rience almost  that  he  had,  was  the  shadow  of  a  great  fear,  lying 
right  across  his  path.    It  was  the  shadow  of  that  brother  Esau. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  we  take  up  the  narrative  of  the  thirty-se- 
cond chapter  of  Genesis.  "  And  Jacob  sent  messengers  before  him 
to  Esau  his  brother,  unto  the  laud  of  Seir,  the  country  of  Edom," 
whither  Esau  had  gone  ;  and  he  became,  you  know,  the  f  itlier  of  the 
Edomites.  "  And  he  commanded  him,  saying.  Thus  shall  ye  speak 
unto  my  lord  Esau." 

This  is  a  man  that  had  stolen  the  birthright,  and  made  himself  the 
chief     He  is  returning  to  his  country ;  and  his  very  first  act  is  to  as- 


62  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

sume  the  manners  of  a  servant,  and  to  bow  down,  recognizing  thg 
cbieftainship  of  bis  brother.     Sucli  ti'ansforraations  fear  makes. 

"  Thns  shall  ye  speak  unto  my  lord  Esau,  Thy  servant  Jacob  saith 
thus :  I  have  sojourned  with  Laban  and  staid  there  imtil  now,  and  I 
have  oxen,  and  asses,  flocks,  and  men-servants,  and  women-servants  ; 
and  I  have  sent  to  tell  my  lord,  that  I  may  find  grace  in  thy 
sight." 

You  see  the  same  worldly  traits  both  in  their  good  and  in  their 
bad  aspects,  as  you  will  have  occasion  to  trace  them  all  the  way 
through  this  evening.     You  will  see  how  he  humbles  himself,  almost 
crouching.      And  yet  you  will  see  how  provident  he  was.       He  left 
nothing  to  chance.     He  did  not,  as  the  reckless  Esau  would  have 
done,  say,  "  Let  danger  take  care  of  itself ;  when  danger  comes,  I 
will   be   there   too,   and  I  will   confront   it."     Jacob  was   all  fore- 
thought.     He  was  never  caught  doing  any  thing  at  haphazard.     He 
was  shrewd,  keen,  far-reaching  ;  and  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  start- 
ed to  go  back  to  his  father's  land,  and  that  fear  which  he  had  left 
there,  "  How  know  I  what  shall  befall  me  ?     To  be  sure  I  am  rich 
and  great;   but  my  brother  is  a  man  of  war,  and  I  see  that  it  is 
necessary  to  conciliate  him."     He  sent  messengers  to  Esau.     But 
these  messengers  received  a  curt  reply,  evidently.     They  did  not  re- 
port it ;  and  I  suspect  that  it  was  such  as  they  did  not  care  to  report. 
For  it  is  recorded  that  the  messengers  returned. to  Jacob,  saying, 
"We  came  to  thy  brother  Esiiu,  and  also  he  cometh  to  meet  thee,  and 
four  hundred  men  with  him."    A  good  many — too  many  !     He  did 
not  like  that  jjart.     Jacob  came  with  his  wives,  Avitli  his  children, 
with  his  camels,  with  his  asses,  with  his  oxen,  with  his  mules,  and 
with  his  flocks  of  sheep  ;  but  Esau  came  with  four  hundred  men. 
That  was  altogether  too  courteous  !     That  fear  whicli  had   already 
cast  its  darkness  upon  him  now  became  anguish,      Jacob  was  great- 
ly afraid  and  distressed ;  for  with  all  that  man's  faults  he  was  a 
man  of  exquisite  afiections.    How  manj-  men  you  see  like  that  I  How 
many  men  you  see  who  are  outside  scarcely  less  than  the  chestnut 
burr  for  sharpness  and  for  ruggeduess,  and  who  yet  carry  in  them 
hidden  a  very  tender  heart !     And  how  many  shrewd,  soft-tongued, 
pliable-lipped  men  there   are  !     How  many  there  are  that  you  learn 
to  dislike  !     How  many  there  are  that  you  learn  to  hate  almost,  until 
you  see  their  family  life !     When  you  see  what  beauties  there  are 
in  bad  men,  oftentimes  you  love  them  for  their  good  traits.      In  tliis 
world,  good  and  bad  are  strangely  mixed  together.     There  are  very 
few  characters  that  are  simple  and  perfect — either  perfectly  bad  or 
perfectly  good.    And  Jacob  had  a  very  tender  heart.    "  He  Avas  great 
ly  afraid  and  distressed;  and  he  divided  the  people  that  was  Avith 
him,  and  the  flocks  and  herds,  and  the  camels,  into  two  bands."    For 


RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION.  .       63 

you  see  that  his  distress  was  not  so  great  but  that  after  all  the  poli- 
tic manager  came  out  again.  And  he  said  to  himself,  in  the  midst 
of  his  distress,  "  Let  me  be  up  and  doing."  He  thought  like  a  gene- 
ral, and  said,  "  I  will  divide  my  j^roperty.  I  will  not  invest  all,  so 
that  one  stroke  shall  destroy  the  \vhole  of  it.  I  will  put  it  in  such 
a  shape  that  if  one  half  goes,  I  will  make  oiF  with  the  other  half." 
At  least  he  was  not  so  distressed  but  that  he  could  think.  He  "  was 
greatly  afraid  and  distressed ;  and  he  divided  the  j^eople  that  was 
with  him,  and  the  flocks  and  herds,  and  the  camels,  into  two 
bands." 

It  seems  a  little  strange  to  see  this  rude  conjunction  of  circumstan- 
ces. Modern  society  teaches  us  to  put  stuffing  between  things  thai 
are  good  and  things  that  are  bad  which  lie  close  together.  And  we 
put  ^:>Ara56s  between  them.  Here  Jacob's  affliction,  his  soul-tem- 
pest, is  described;  and  in  the  very  same  line  it  is  said  that  he  divi- 
ded his  camels,  and  his  sheep,  and  his  oxen.  That  blunt  and  un- 
smoothing  way  belongs  to  the  simplicity  of  an  earlier  life.  It  would 
be  better,  I  think,  if  we  introduced  something  of  it  into  the  peri- 
phrastic way  of  our  life. 

"  And  he  said,  If  Esau  come  to  the  one  company,  and  smite  it, 
then  the  other  comjiany  which  is  left  shall  escape." 

What  do  you  suppose,  now,  in  this  moment,  he  thought  of?  He 
thought  of  all  the  advantage  which  he  gained  by  his  craft  and  treach- 
ery to  his  brother.  Do  not  you  suppose  that  in  this  moment  he  would 
have  given  all  his  possessions  to  have  been  quit  of  his  old  wrong,  and  to 
have  been  at  peace  again  ?  After  fourteen  years,  one  single  act  of  his  life 
Avas  alive,  and  stood  up  before  him  on  the  precincts  of  the  promised  land 
— an  act  that  now  was  revengeful  and  threatening.  And  all  his  prcfs- 
perity  in  that  moment  trembled  in  his  hand,  and  was  like  to  have 
been  lost.  The  half  of  it  he  was  willing  to  part  with.  Peradventure, 
tbe  whole  of  it  would  go.  And  yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  he  is 
shrewd  and  self-possessed.  Fear,  and  then  calmness ;  anguish,  and 
then  again  management.  This  fluctuation — how  extremely  natural 
it  is  in  a  moment  of  suspense  !  For  of  all  things  in  this  world  there 
is  nothing  so  painful  as  suspense.  Come  shame,  a  man  can  bear  that, 
only  let  it  come.  But  to  Avonder  whether  it  will  come  ;  to  lie  awake 
at  night;  to  wake  at  midnight;  to  wake  at  early  morning;  and  still 
to  think,  "  Will  it  ?"  To  calculate  the  cliances,  and  say,  "Stop  this  bit- 
ter calculation  ;"  and  to  jsutit  down  again,  and  again,  and  again,  and 
never  have  it  quit — oh  !  this  is  a  suspense  Avhich  is  like  a  thousand 
hells.  And  here  was  this  man  kept  in  this  fiery  state,  Avaiting  to 
knoAv  Avhat  should  be  developed  ;  wondering  if  he  should  be  bereft 
of  his  household,  and  if  his  proj^erty  should  be  swept  away ;  Avon- 
deriug  if  his  brother- would  be  peaceable.    Doubtless  there  Avere  run- 


64  .         EETRWVTION  AND   REFORMATION 

ning  througli  his  mind  all  these  possibilities.  If  he  is,  then  what  ? 
And  if  he  is  not,  then  Avhat  ?  It  was  this  fiery  swinging  from  one 
side  to  another  that  was  the  chastisement  of  the  Lord  indeed. 

But  now  we  come  to  the  first  step  of  that  great  change  which  pass- 
ed upon  Jacob  at  this  time — for  he  had  reached  a  crisis,  as  I  shall 
show,  in  his  life's  history,  and  in  his  character  and  disposition. 

"  And  Jacob,"  after  he  had  done  this,  "  said,  O  God  of  my  father 
Abraham,  and  God  of  my  father  Isaac,  the  Lord  which  saidst  unto  me, 
Return  unto  thy  country,  and  to  thy  kindred,  and  I  will  deal  well 
with  thee ! " 

There  is  something  very  afiecting  in  the  way  in  which  guilty  per- 
sons invoke  the  God  of  their  fathers.  Conscious  that  they  deserve 
nothing  at  the  hands  of  God,  they  seek  to  bring  down  upon  themselves 
the  blessings  of  the  God  of  their  father  and  of  their  mother.  There 
is  many  a  poor  stricken  soul  that  has  felt,  as  for  himself,  that  he 
scarcely  could  lift  his  eyes,  to  heaven ;  but  he  has  thought'of  the  God 
of  his  childhood,  and  the  God  of  his  dear  mother,  and  he  has  prayed 
in  her  name,  and  in  his  father's  name.  And  so  Jacob — how  humble 
he  was  before  God,  or  began  to  be  !  He  said,  "  O  God  of  my  father 
Abraham,  and  God  of  my  father  Isaac  !"  And  then,  Avhen  he  men- 
tions himself,  he  says,  "The  Lord  which  saidst  unto  me,  Return  unto 
thy  country,  and  to  thy  kindred,  and  I  will  deal  well  with  thee,  I 
am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  the  mercies,  and  of  all  the  truth, 
which  thou  hast  showed  unto  thy  servant ;  for  with  my  stafi"  I  passed 
over  this  Jordan,  and  now  I  am  become  two  bauds." 

It  is  strange  how  a  man's  prosperity  returns  to  vex  him  when 
his  sins  rise  up  before  him.  And  his  unworthiness  before  God,  and 
God's  mercies  to  him,  deepen  his  sense  of  guilt,  and  of  his  unwoi'thi- 
ness.  "  Deliver  me,  I  pray  thee,  from  the  hand  of  my  brother,  from 
the  hand  of  Esau :  for  I  fear  him,  lest  he  will  come  and  smite  me,  and 
the  mother  with  the  children."  Let  the  cattle  go ;  but  if  he  should 
smite  me,  and  the  mother,  and  the  children ! 

When  men  are  overtaken  in  their  transgression,  and  all  their 
wickedness  seems  to  come  down  upon  them,  how  true  it  is  that  then 
there  rise  up  before  them  the  concurrent  suffering  of  all  their  house- 
holds !  A  man  is  in  the  temptation  of  business,  and  the  question  is, 
whether  he  shall  draw  a  note  for  five  thousand  dollars,  or  a  series  of 
notes  for  five  thousand  dollars,  and  indorse  them  with  good  indorse- 
ments ;  and  he  says,  "  I  mean  nobody  any  harm  ;  I  mean  to  take  them 
up  just  as  fast  as  they  come  round;  nobody  shall  sufier,  and  I  shall 
get  great  good."  It  seems  all  safe  and  all  right.  The  first  is  taken 
up,  and  the  second  is  taken  up,  and  the  third  is  taken  up,  and  the 
fourth  one  is  coming  on  ;  and  how  to  meet  it  is  the  question.  His  funds 
are  scattered ;  his  friends  are  gone,  his  arrangements  are  all  blighted, 


BETEIBUTIOl^  AND   REFORMATION.  65 

and  the  hour  is  drawing  near,  and  there  can  be  no  concealment.  And 
in.  that  hour  what  is  it  that  he  thinks  of  but  "  My  mother,  and  my 
father  !  Oh  !  how  shall  I  go  home  and  tell  my  wife  ?  How  shall  I 
look  on  the  face  of  my  cliildreu  ?  When  all  my  neighbors  look  me 
in  the  face  to-morrow,  and  call  me  a  forger,  how  shall  I  look  in  the 
face  of  my  beloved  ones  again?" 

How  it  takes  hold  of  him  through  his  wife,  and  through  his  chil- 
dren, and  through  all  that  he  loves !  And  how  has  it  been  so  since 
the  beginning  of  the  world !  Hear  this  old  patriarch  saying,  "  De- 
liver me,  I  pray  thee,  from  the  hand  of  my  brother,  from  the  hand  of 
Esau  :  for  I  fear  him,  lest  he  will  come  and  smite  me,  and  the  mother 
with  the  children."  This  was  a  great  grief.  Few  words  are  record- 
ed ;  but  ah  !  it  was  a  great  grief 

After  this  prayer,  you  will  see  how  strangely — not  surprisingly, 
but  yet  strikingly — back  comes  his  old  politic  spirit  again.  "  And 
he  lodged  there  that  same  night,  and  took  of  that  which  came  to  his 
hand,  a  present  for  Esau  his  brother ;  two  hundred  she-goats  and 
twenty  he-goats,  two  hundred  ewes  and  twenty  rams,  thirty  milch 
camels  with  their  colts,  forty  kine  and  ten  bulls,  twenty  she-asses  and 
ten  foals."  Now  see  how  shrewd  he  was.  "  And  he  delivered  them 
into  4he  hand  of  his  servants,  every  drove  by  themselves ;  and  said 
unto  his  servants,  Pass  over  before  me,  and  put  a  space  betwixt  drove 
and  drove.  And  he  commanded  the  foremost,  saying.  When  Esau  my 
brother  meeteth  thee,  and  asketh  thee,  saying,  Whose  art  thou  ?  and 
whither  goest  thou  ?  and  whose  are  these  before  thee  ?  Then  thou 
shalt  say.  They  be  thy  servant  Jacob's ;  it  is  a  present  sent  unto  my 
lord  Esau  ;  and  behold  also  he  is  behind  us."  Probably  the  first  pres- 
ent might  be  very  acceptable,  but  far  from  doing  the  work.  "  And 
so  commanded  the  second."  And  he  was  to  repeat  the  same  thing. 
Doubtless  this  would  still  further  mollify  the  raging  prince  of  Edom. 
*'  And  the  third  and  all  that  followed  the  droves,  saying,  on  this  man- 
ner shall  ye  speak  unto  Esau,  when  ye  find  him.  And  say  ye,  more- 
over. Behold  thy  servant  Jacob  is  behind  us.  For  he  said,  I  will  ap- 
pease him  with  the  present  that  goetli  before  me,  and  afterward  I  will 
see  his  face ;  peradventure,  he  will  accept  of  me." 

See  this  man  skulking  in  the  shadow  of  his  sin,  and  his  sin  breed- 
ing fear,  and  both  of  them  exciting-remoi'se  in  him.  See  hoAv  much 
this  man  had  made  by  his  wrong-doing  !  For  he  had  struck  at  the 
confidence  between  man  and  man.  He  had  undermined  the  very 
structure  on  which  society  stands.  He  had  destroyed  faith  between 
brother  and  brother.  It  was  a  great  crime,  and  greatly  was  he  pun- 
ished for  it.  "  So  went  the  present  over  before  him  ;  and  himself 
lodged  that  night  in  the  company" — that  is,  he  camped  down  in  the 
early  evening. 


66  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

And  now  we  apj^roach  the  great  crisis  of  his  life,  and  the  great 
change  which  was  Avrought  in  him. 

"  He  rose  up  that  night,  and  took  his  two  wives,  and  his  two 
woman-servants,  and  his  eleven  sons,  and  passed  over  the  ford  Jab- 
bok."  A  ford  from  an  hour  and  a  half  to  two  hours  distant  from  the 
river  Jordan,  and  two  from  the  river  Sychar.  "  And  he  took  them, 
and  sent  them  over  the  brook,  and  sent  over  that  he  had," — that  is,  all 
the  great  body  of  his  caravan — and  Jacob  remained  on  the  one  side 
of  the  river  Jabbok.  "  Jacob  was  left  alone."  And  now  is  introduced 
in  the  most  sketchy  manner,  in  the  most  imperfect  tracery,  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  narrations  of  the  intercourse  of  the  divine  with  ' 
the  human  that  is  contained  in  literature.  "  Jacob  was  left  alone ;  and 
there  wrestled  a  man  with  him  until  the  breaking  of  the  day." 
What  it  was  I  do  not  know,  except  that  it  was  an  angel-man — the 
angel  of  the  covenant — that  stood  in  God's  j)lace,  and  was  as  God  to 
him.  That  Jacob  knew  that  it  was  a  superior  personage  there  can  be 
no  manner  of  doubt ;  but  as  to  what  this  wrestling  was — the  whole 
mode  of  it ;  we  know  nothing.  Neither  here,  nor  in  any  subsequent 
scripture,  is  there  light  thrown  upon  it.  He  wrestled  with  the  man 
"until  the  breaking  of  the  day."  "And  when  he"— that  is,  the  celes- 
tial personage — "  saw  that  he  ^irevailed  not  against  him,  he  torched 
the  hollow  of  his  thigh ;  and  the  hollow  of  Jacob's  thigh  was  out 
of  joint  as  he  wrestled  with  him." 

It  is  very  plain  that  the  patriarch  understood  that  the  crisis  of  his 
life  had  come.  He  had  prayed  to  God,  and  here  was  the  answer  to 
his  prayer;  and  it  is  very  plain  that  he  felt  that  on  his  persistent 
faith  depended  his  whole  safety. 

"  And  the  angel  said,  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.  And 
he  said,  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.  And  he  said  unto 
him.  What  is  thy  name  ?  And  he  said,  Jacob.  And  he  said,  Thy  name 
shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel ;  for  as  a  i:)rince  hast  thou 
power  with  God,  and  with  men,  and  hast  prevailed.  And  Jacob  asked 
him,  and  said,  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  thy  name.  And  he  said.  Where- 
fore is  it  that  thou  dost  ask  after  my  name?  And  he  blessed  him 
there.  And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place  Penuel;  for  I  have  seen 
.  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved." 

From  this  hour  Jacob  was  another  man.  In  the  strength  of  this 
vision,  and  in  the  blessing  which  he  received  in  this  mysterious 
struggle,  he  advanced  to  meet  his  brother.  The  hand  of  the  Lord 
was  also  upon  him.  Strangely,  I  probably  might  say  unexpected- 
ly, to  Jacob,  he  met  him ;  and  the  old  boyhood  affection  returned. 
They  made  friends  ;  and  they  parted,  one  going  one  way  after  the 
interview,  and  the  other  going  the  other  way. 

But  that  to  which  attention  is  niore  especially  directed  is,  that 


BETBIBUTIOIT  AND   REFOmiATlON.  67 

from  tliis  hour  Jacob  is  nowhere  recorded  as  falUng  back  ii^^on  his 
selfish,  his  politic,  his  managing  career.  From  tliis  hour  out  there  is 
no  trace  of  any  thing  in  him  but  largeness  of  mind,  nobleness  of  pur- 
pose, and  beauty  of  character.  All  the  dross  seems  to  have  been 
purged  away.  He  had  met  the  crisis,  and  had  risen,  and  gone  through 
it ;  and  he  had  come  out  a  changed  man.  And  now  he  was  indeed  a 
prince  of  God,  and  he  was  the  principal  founder  of  the  nation  of  the 
Israelites.  Esau  went  back,  the  wild  and  the  untamed  man,  the  sheik 
of  the  desert,  w^ith  his  herds,  wandering  and  plundering  every  whithei-. 
Jacob  went,  the  civilizer,  over  into  the  promised  land,  and  there 
established  the  economy  for  which  he  had  been  ordained,  and  lived 
revered,  a  beautiful  specimen  of  an  old  man.  And  the  last  scenes  of 
his  life  were  transcendently  beautiful. 

In  view  of  this  narrative,  which  I  have  conducted  so  far,  let  me  say : 

Men's  sins  carry  with  them  a  jiunishment  in  this  life.  Different 
sins  are  differently  punished.  The  degrees  of  iiunishment  are  not 
always  according  to  our  estimate  of  the  culpability.  Many  sins 
against  a  man's  body  go  on  in  the  body,  reproducing  their  penalties 
from  year  to  year,  and  from  ten  years  to  ten  years.  And  the  igno- 
rant crime,  or  the  knowing  crime,  committed  when  one  is  yet  in  his 
minority,  may  repeat  itself  and  repeat  its  bitterness  and  its  penalty 
when  one  is  hoary  with  age.  Mere  repenting  of  sin  does  not  dispos- 
sess the  power  of  all  sins.  There  are  transgressions  that  throw  per- 
sons out  of  the  pale  of  society.  There  are  single  acts,  the  penalties 
of  which  never  fail  to  reassert  themselves.  There  are  single  wrongs 
that  are  never  healed.  This  great  transgression  that  seemed  in  the 
commission  without  any  threat  and  without  any  danger,  pursued 
this  man  through  all  his  early  life,  and  clear  down  until  he  was  an  old 
man,  and  returned  from  his  exile.  And  even  then  he  was  quit  of  it 
only  by  one  of  those  great  critical  transitions  which  take  place,  or 
may  take  place,  in  the  life  of  a  man,  without  which  he  would  have 
gone  on,  doubtless,  expiating  still  his  great  wrong. 

And  yet  God  bore  no  witness.  It  does  not  need ,  that  God 
should  bear  witness  against  a  man  that  has  committed  a  sin.  A  man 
may  commit  sins,  and  he  may  not  himself  be  conscious  that  he  is  sin- 
ning ;  at  any  rate,  he  may  not  be  conscious  of  the  magnitude  of  his 
sins.  A  man  may  commit  sins,  and  the  customs  of  society  may  be  so 
low  that  he  shall  not  think  that  he  is  a  great  sinner.  The  sin  does 
not  depend  upon  your  estimate  of  it,  or  on  the  estimate  which  your 
fellow-men  put  upon  it,  but  upon  its  effect  upon  your  constitution,  and 
the  constitution  of  human  society. 

A  man  commits  transgressions ;  and  years  and  years  go  on,  and 
they  seem  to  be  buried  ;  but  they  are  not.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  that 
men's  sins  when  they  come  t^  visit  them  with  judgments,  choose  the 


68  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

worst  possible  time  to  come  in.  It  is  then,  when  a  man  is  broken 
down  otherwise ;  it  is  then,  when  a  man  is  in  trouble  ;  it  is  then,  when 
a  man  is  bankrupt,  that  they  come  in.  This  man  or  that  man,  this 
memory  or  that  memory,  this  wrong  or  that  wrong,  comes  uj^on  him. 
He  is  in  deep  bereavement.  It  is  as  if  a  breach  had  been  opened,  and 
all  the  wrongs  of  former  times  were  rushing  in  upon  him, 

Jacob  had  had  a  good  time,  apparently.  So  far  as  his  violation 
between  himself  and  his  brother  and  his  father's  family  was  concerned, 
he  had  had  twenty  years  of  rest.  And  yet,  as  with  all  his  abun- 
dance he  came  trooping  back  to  the  border  to  go  over  into  the  prom- 
ised land  and  take  possession  of  it,  there,  hovering,  haunting  the  banks 
of  the  Jordan,  was  that  old  wa-ong.  In  that  very  hour  when  he 
could  least  afford  to  meet  it,  w^hen  he  was  most  open  to  it,  when  all 
his  possessions  were  in  danger  of  being  seized — worse  than  that, 
when  all  that  his  heart  loved  lay  nnder  the  stroke  of  his  adversary — 
that  was  the  time  that  his  sin  came  back  to  meet  him. 

And  so  it  is  yet.  There  are  a  great  many  sins  that  men  think  to 
be  very  sinful,  which,  being  committed,  pass  away.  Men  are  more 
afraid  of  conventional  sins  than  they  are  of  real  ones.  There  is  many 
and  many  a  man  who  does  not  feel  w^hen  he  with  bitter  hatred  lan- 
ces venomously  his  neighbor's  reputation  that  that  is  any  great  sin. 
There  is  many  a  man  that  burns  with  cruel  anger  who  does  not  think 
that  that  is  any  great  sin.  There  is  many  a  man  that  covets  with , 
a  greedy  eye  and  a  fiery  longing  that  which  is  his  neighbor's,  who 
does  not  think  that  that  is  any  great  sin.  There  is  many  a  man  that 
will  break  his  word  with  his  neighbor,  that  will  break  pact  and 
faith  with  men,  who  does  not  thinly  that  that  is  any.great  sin.  There 
is  many  a  man  that  is  a  supplanter,  that  undermines  his  neighbors, 
that  takes  the  foundation  out  from  under  them,  and  sees  them  top- 
pling and  falling  to  the  ground,  who  does  not  count  that  a  great  sin. 
If  he  had  broken  Sunday,  he  woxild  have  been  scared  to  death  !  If 
he  had  broken  a  day,  that  has  no  bones  in  it ;  if  he  had  broken  a 
day,  which  is  a  man's  servant;  or  if,  going  into  the  church,  he  had 
committed  any  error  among  the  saints ;  if  he  had  broken  any  of 
the  harness  of  religion,  or  soiled  it,  he  Avould  have  felt  sore.  But  to 
touch  men  ;  to  touch  them  in  the  marrow  of  their  life  ;  to  touch  their 
name,  and  their  property;  to  violate  the  great  law  of  love,  and  so  to 
violate  every  nerve  which  runs  through  God's  organized  universe — 
in  committing  these  sins  men  seldom  feel  that  they  have  committed 
any  great  sin.  But  by  and  by  their  transgressions  begin  to  come 
back  upon  them.  They  have  forgotten  them.  They  have  not  labeled 
them,  they  have  not  kept  any  account  of  them ;  but  they  begin  to 
come — misfortune  after  misfortune  ;  trouble  after  trouble.  Some- 
times the  shadow  of  sin  itself  rests  upon  them.     Sometimes  the  sense 


BETRIBTJTION  AND   REFORMATION.  69 

of  reputation  lost  comes.  Sometimes  there  are  distinct  memories  that 
return.  But  often  there  is  only  the  cloudy  haze,  the  vague  and  gen- 
eral sense  of  trouble,  trouble,  trouble.  And  men  frequently  bemoan 
themselves,  complain,  and  wonder  why  their  way  is  so  beset.  Oh ! 
hear  them  talk  about  a  selfish  world.  Selfish  they  have  been.  Hear 
them  talk  about  misfortunes.  Misfortune's  ?  Retribution !  Hear 
them  talk  about  God's  penalty  of  some,  and  neglect  of  others.  God 
has  not  neglected  you.  He  is  after  you  with  a  whip  of  scorpions,  as 
your  sins  deserve.  Men's  sins  find  them  out.  And  though  you  put  as 
for  as  between  Palestine  and  Assyria  between  you  and  them;  though 
your  sins  slumber  for  years  and  years,  they  will  have  a  resurrection  on 
earth.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  man  commits  in  this  world  any  sin 
against  the  fundamental  laws  of  his  body,  or  against  the  laws  of  hu- 
man society,  by  which  men  are  knit  together  in  faith  and  love,  and 
goes  unpunished,  even  in  this  world.  It  does  not  touch  the  question 
of  the  other.  This  is  a  primary  and  lower  and  organized  arrange- 
ment, quite  independent  of  divine  and  arbitrary  penalties  in  the  life 
to  come.  It  is  not  safe,  therefore,  for  those  who  have  choice  in  this 
matter  to  trifle  with  right  or  wrong.  Men  are  afraid  to  commit  vices, 
because  they  are  afraid  of  losing  their  places  ;  that  is,  something  visi- 
ble. They  are  afraid  to  commit  crimes,  because  they  are  afraid  of  the 
law,  and  are  afraid  of  disgrace.  But  ah  !  sins  are  dangerous  things, 
and  they  are  dangerous  in  this  world,  too.  Vices  are  dangerous,  and 
crimes  are  dangerous,  and  so  are  sins  dangerous ;  and  no  man  can 
aiford  to  make  them  his  enemies,  and  poj^ulate  the  future  down  into 
which  he  is  going  all  unarmed  and  unaware  with  these  dread  forms 
of  avenging  sins. 

When  men  have  been  living  a  wicked  life,  it  i's  quite  jjossible  for 
them  to  turn  away  from  it,  and  it  is  quite  possible  for  them  to  be 
lifted  above  the  effects  of  it.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  amoral  eleva- 
tion that  lifts  a  man  up  above  the  moral  remuneration  of  sin ;  but  it 
only  comes  by  transformation.  There  is  many  and  many  a  man  Avho 
would  do  well  if,  when  he  is  brought  into  great  straits  of  distress  by 
his  past  conduct,  he  could  but  imitate  Jacob ;  but  alas !  it  is  easier  to 
imitate  him  in  his  sinfulness  than  in  his  repentance.  Oh !  if  such 
men  could  fall-  back  in  prayer  upon  God.  Sometimes  they  do  ;  but 
they  do  not  persevere  in  prayer.  Ah  !  if  men  could,  in  the  hour  of 
their  distress,  be  honest  Avith  themselves,  own  their  transgressions, 
fall  back  upon  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and  their  God,  and  suffer 
the  Divine  Spirit  to  lift  them  high  above  themselves,  they  might  stop 
the  long  series  ;  they  might  break  and  interrupt  the  flow  of  sequences 
and  the  penalty.  Alas !  there  are  few  men  that  are  wise  enough  to  do  it. 
And  men  who  are  not  made  spiritually  better  by  great  troubles  and 
afflictions  have  great  reason  to  fear  that  they  are  utterly  cast  away. 


To  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

This  will  show  tlie  great  folly  of  small  reformation  in  a  man  that 
has  committed  continuous  wrongs.  There  is  nothing  but  a  change 
of  heart  that  will  put  a  man  right  with  himself,  right  with  society, 
and  right  with  God.  "  Let  him  that  stole  steal  no  more,"  says  the 
Apostle.  Let  him  that  has  been  living  in  unrighteous  indulgence  for- 
sake wholly  his  practice's.  Let  the  wicked  man  forsake  his  wicked- 
ness and  turn  unto  righteousness.  God  says,  all  his  past  wickedness 
shall  not  be  counted  any  more.  And  on  the  other  hand,  if  the 
I'ighteous  man  forsake  his  righteousness,  all  the  righteousness  that  he 
has  committed  in  times  past  shall  not  save  him  from  the  penalty  of 
new  transgressions.  If  a  man  have  been  never  so  wicked,  I  do  not 
say  that  the  translation  into  the  spiritual  realm  by  repentance  will 
cure  every  thing ;  but  I  do  say,  that  there  are  a  great  many  remune- 
rations of  sin  in  this  world  that  will  continue  to  act  against  a  man 
that  may  be  alleviated — taken  away. 

The  doctrine  of  regeneration  is  taught  in  theN"ew  Testament,  that 
a  man  may  be  born  again — must.,  it  is  said.  Far  more  gracious  is  the 
word  may ;  that  a  man  who  has  been  living  a  brutal,  degraded  life 
may  stop  it  and  live  a  higher  and  a  nobler  life ;  that  a  man  who  has 
been  living  a  deceitful,  crafty  life  may  clothe  himself  with  simpli- 
city and  with  truthfulness  ;  that  a  man  who  has  been  living  sordid 
and  selfish  may  grow  generous  and  magnanimous ;  that  a  man  who 
has  been  living  a  godless  life  may  live  in  the  full  fruition  of  the  di- 
vine communion ;  that  a  man  who  has  been  soiled  with  salacious  af- 
fections and  been  living  in  carnal  lusts,  a  man  who  has  been  in 
debauch,'  may  stop,  and  stop  at  once,  and  may  rise  to  a  higher  plat- 
form, where  God  shall  meet  and  cleanse  him,  and  his  life  shall  flow  like 
a  stream  from  divine  fountains.  This  doctrine  that  it  is  possible  for 
men  that  have  been  going  on  in  transgression  to  stop  their  wrong 
and  to  rise  into  another  sphere,  and  another  atmosphere,  is  the  most 
blessed  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament. 

Finally,  no  man  need  ever  despair  of  past  misdoing  who  is  in  ear- 
nest. There  is  no  man  that  is  sufiered  to  do  wrong  without  check 
and  hinderance.  Ten  thousand  things  stop  men,  interrupt  them, 
throw  them  upon  though tfulness.  Ten  thousand  things  oblige  men 
to  look  back,  to  calculate  ;  to  look  forward,  to  anticijiate.  And  when 
these  seasons  from  God  come,  if  any  man  is  in  earnest  to  do  better, 
there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  not.  The  power  of  God's  angel, 
the  wrestling  of  God's  Spirit,  is  not  only  in  this  far-off  history  <  f  the 
patriarch.  There  is  many  and  many  a  man  with  whom  this  mysteri- 
ous messenger  of  God  wrestles ;  and  if  he  be  in  earnest,  if  he  will 
not  let  God's  Spirit  go  except  he  bless  him  ;  if  he  feel  that  his  life 
is  in  the  struggle  and  he  Avill  be  blest  of  God,  there  is  no  man  so. 
bad,  no  man  so  wicked,  but  that  he  may  become  pure,  and  his  flesh 


RETEIBTITrON  AND   REFORMATION.  71 

return  to  liira  again  like  the  flesh  of  a  little  child  —  as  in  the  case 
of  Naaman  the  leper. 

If  there  are  any  here  who  feel  as  though  others  might  improve 
and  turn  back,  but  as  though  it  was  too  late  for  them,  as  though  they 
had  gone  too  far,  as  though  they  had  become  too  old,  as  though  their 
habits  had  become  too  fixed,  so  far  as  your  own  will  is  concerned,  it 
may  be  true  that  you  would  never  be  able  of  yourself  to  tiu'n  to 
God  ;  but  there  is  a  provisioii  in  God's  bounty  by  which,  by  his  grace 
and  by  his  power,  you  may  be  cleansed,  you  may  be  set  free  from 
evil  thoughts  and  imaginations,  and  your  passions  may  be  restrained. 
A  new  heart  God  can  give  you.  That  old  heart  that  has  been  a  foun- 
tain throbbing,  and  throbbing,  and  casting  out  vile  streams,  may  be 
taken  away,  and  God's  grace  may  open  a  new  way  in  your  bosom. 
And  from  thence  shall  issue  life,  and  life  eternal. 

May  God  grant  to  some  of  you,  that,  as  you  have  had  the  experi- 
ence of  the  early  part  of  the  patriarch's  life  in  sin,  you  may  have  the 
experience  of  the  latter  part  of  his  life — exaltation  and  turning  to 
God. 

Now  I  intend  to  close  this  sermon  by  reading  the  most  beautiful 
spiritualization  of  this  narrative,  one  of  the  most  charming  hymns 
of  any  historic  narrative,  I  think,  that  ever  was  made  in  English — 
one  by  Charles  Wesley,  and  founded,  as  you  Avill  perceive,  wholly  on 
this  history.  Only  he  renders  it  as  if  it  were  a  modern  Christian 
struggle,  with  a  confession  of  sin,  followed  with  perfect  peace  in  Christ 
Jesus. 

Come,  0  tliou  Traveler  unknown, 

Whom  still  I  hold,  but  can  not  see, 
My  company  before  is  gone. 

And  I  am  left  alone  with  thee  : 
With  thee  all  night  I  mean  to  stay, 
And  wrestle  till  the  break  of  day. 

^  I  need  not  tell  thee  who  I  am  ; 

My  sin  and  misery  declare  ; 
Thyself  hast  called  me  by  my  name. 

Look  on  thy  hands  and  read  it  there ; 
But  who,  I  ask  thee,  who,  art  thou  ? 
Tell  me  thy  name,  and  tell  me  now. 

In  vain  thou  strugglest  to  get  free, 

I  never  will  unloose  my  hold ! 
Art  thou  the  MAN  that  died  for  me  ? 

The  secret  of  thy  love  vinfold  : 
Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 
Till  I  thy  name,  thy  nature  know. 


72  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

Wilt  thou  not  yet  to  me  reveal 
Thy  new,  unutterable  name  ? 

Tell  me,  I  still  beseech  thee,  tell ; 
To  know  it  now  resolved  I  am  : 

Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  thee  go, 

Till  I  thy  name,  thy  nature  know. 

yield  to  me  now,  for  I  am  weak, 
But  confident  in  self-despair ; 

Speak  to  my  heart,  in  blessings  speak : 
Be  conquered  by  my  instant  prayer ! 

Speak,  or  thou  never  hence  shalt  move. 

And  tell  me  if  thy  name  be  Love. 

Tis  Love !  'tis  Love !  thou  diedst  for  me  ; 

I  hear  thy  whisper  in  my  heart  ; 
The  morning  breaks,  the  shadows  flee ; 

Pure,  universal  love  thou  art  : 
To  me,  to  all,  thy  bowels  move — 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

My  prayer  hath  power  with  God  ;  the  grace 
Unspeakable  I  now  receive  ; 

Through  faith  I  see  thee  face  to  face ; 
I  see  thee  face  to  face,  and  live ! 

In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove ; 

Thy  natvixe  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

I  know  thee.  Saviour,  who  thou  art — 
Jesus,  the  feeble  sinner's  friend  ! 

Nor  wilt  thou  with  the  night  depart, 
Bui  stay  and  love  me  to  the  end ! 

Thy  mercies  never  shall  remove  ; 

Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

The  Stm  of  Righteousness  on  me 

Hath  risen  with  healing  in  his  wings ! 

Withered  my  nature's  strength,  from  thee 
My  soul  its  life  and  succor  brings ; 

]My  help  is  all  laid  iip  above ; 

Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 

Contented  now,  npon  my  thigh 
I  halt,  till  life's  short  journey  end; 

All  helplessness,  all  weakness,  I 
On  thee  alone  for  strength  depend : 

Nor  have  I  power  from  thee  to  move : 

Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 


i 


RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION.  73 

Lame  as  I  am,  I  take  tlie  prey ; 

Hell,  earth,  and  sin,  with  ease  o'ercome ; 
I  leap  for  joy,  pursue  my  way. 

And,  as  a  bounding  hart,  fly  home, 
Through  all  eternity  to  prove 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love. 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMOIf. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  our  heavenly  Father,  not  as  those  that  need  to  remind  thee  ;  for  thou 
art  ever  more  mindful  of  us  than  we  are  of  ourselves.  We  draw  near  to  thee  not  as  suppliants, 
as  if  it  were  needful  every  hour  to  deprecate  thy  wrath ;  for  thy  mercies  run  before  us.  We  draw 
near  to  thee  because  tlioii  art  our  friend ;  because  thou  hast  taught  our  hearts  the  blessedness  of 
communion  ;  because  we  love  the  sacred  peace  and  the  joy  which  thou  dost  breathe  upon  thy 
people  in  the  commumou  of  prayer.  We  are  lifted  far  above  ourselves.  We  think  better 
thoughts.  We  see  further  and  closer.  We  are  more  resolved  in  that  which  is  good.  We  are 
more  filled  with  peace  as  against  disturbing  passions.  We  take  hold  more  firmly  upon  the  great 
ends  of  life  which  thou  hast  revealed.  We  take  more  supreme  delight  in  these  blessed  hours  of 
communion.  And  all  the  things  which  we  ask  are  as  nothing  compared  to  the  things  which  we 
inherit.  Although  thou  givest  from  day  to  day  our  daily  bread,  and  though  with  food  we  have 
raiment  and  shelter,  and  though  we  are  sustained  in  our  relations  one  to  another,  and  in  our 
active  labors  of  life,  yet,  more  than  all  these  is  that  inward  blessing,  the  communion  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  cleansing  influence  of  thy  heart  upon  ours. 

All  the  hopes  which  spring  up  in  us  whose  bright  light  casts  down  cheer  xipon  the  gloom  and 
despondency  of  this  life  ;  the  rest  which  we  have  from  our  struggles  with  selfishness  and  with 
pride ;  the  longings  which  begin  to  be  gratified  ;  the  inspirations  which  begin  to  be  understood ; 
those  anticipations  of  blessedness  which  give  us  a  foretaste  of  that  rest  which  remains  for  the 
people  of  God — these  we  have  found  in  prayer.  And  all  these  mercies  and  blessings  thou  dost 
vouchsafe  to  those  that  seek  thee  diligently. 

We  thank  thee  for  our  own  profit  in  prayer  from  day  to  day  for  many  years.  Thou,  O  God  ! 
hast  lent  a  listening  ear.  How  many  sins  come  up  to  thee  !  How  many  periods  of  distress  1 
How  many  hours  of  uncertainty !  What  bereavements  !  What  sharp  soitows  that  take  posses- 
sion of  us!  What  captivities  !  What  deliverances  I  What  smiles  and  gladness  !  What  tears 
and  sorrows !  What  varied  esperiences  have  we  had  in  prayer  unto  thee  with  our  brethren, 
with  our  households,  with  our  own  souls'  wealth  in  the  secrecy  of  the  closet. 

It  is  not  a  vain  thing  to  call  upon  thy  name.  We  are  witnesses  of  thy  fidelity.  Thy  promises 
are  more  than  fulfilled.  We,  too,  can  call  thee  "  him  who  dost  exceeding  abundantly  more  than 
we  ask  or  think."  And  we  render  thee  thanks  for  the  time  that  is  past,  and  take  comfort  for 
the  time  that  is  to  come. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  gi-ant  that  we  may  more  and  more  feed  upon  prayer.  Teach  thwse 
that  should  have  prayed  long  ago  to  begin  the  neglected  lesson  and  privilege.  Draw  reluc- 
tant souls  to  thee— they  that  are  burdened  ;  those  that  have  no  home ;  wanderers  that  have  for- 
saken their  Father's  house ;  outcasts,  aliens  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel.  Oh  !  bring  near  to 
thee  a  great  company  of  those  who  should  call  thee  Father,  but  only  utter  thy  name  to  displease 
thee.  Grant  that  there  may  be  a  turning,  under  the  impulse  of  honor  and  love  and  gratitude. 
Grant  that  there  may  be  a  filial  spirit  breathed  into  many  prayerless  souls ;  and  may  they  find 
their  way  back  to  God  ;  and  finding  thee,  may  they  find  themselves. 

Give  rest  to  all  that  are  disturbed — and  yet,  not  until  they  find  it  with  thee.  Turn  away  men 
from  their  transgressions.  Be  faithful  to  them  while  they  sin,  and  chastise  them.  Heal  them 
when  they  repent.  Bring,  by  all  thy  discipline  thy  people,  and  those  that  are  not  thine,  unto  thee. 
For  how  faithful  are  thy  mercies  !  and  what  mercies  are  thy  judgments  1 

We  thank  thee  that  thou  dost  love  us  so  that  thou  wilt  chastise  us  ;  and  we  thank  thee  for 
every  stripe  that  we  have  had  ;  for  all  troubles ;  for  all  burdens  ;  for  every  cross.  We  thank 
thee  for  all  those  things  which  in  the  past  we  prayed  against,  and  which  nevertheless  came  upon 
us  because  it  was  the  will  of  God. 

And  now  for  the  future.  1*hou  dost  permit  us  to  ask  both  that  things  may  come  and  that 
things  may  be  averted  ;  and  yet,  evermore  we  ask  in  subservience  to  thy  better  knowledge  We 
comprehend  all  thy  desires  in  one— thy  will  be  done  in  us,  and  upon  us  ;  in  our  children,  and 
upon  them ;  in  our  afiiiirs.  We  desire  to  have  nothing  that  thou  canst  not  look  upon  with  plea- 
sure.   Smile  upon  all  our  ways,  and  straighten  them  till  thou  canst  approve.    And  grant  that 


« 

74  RETRIBUTION  AND   REFORMATION. 

thus  we  may  live  in  the  communion  of  thy  spirit,  and  in  thy  sacred  presence,  our  sins  forgiven, 
and  our  hopes  constantly  growing  brighter,  until  that  glorious  day  shall  come,  when  we  shall 
leave  the  scenes  of  care  and  of  temptation,  of  sin  and  repentance,  here,  and  rise  to  the  blessed- 
ness of  thy  heavenly  kingdom.  And  there  we  will  give  the  praise  of  our  salvation  to  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit.    Amen. 


.PRAYER   AFTER   THE    SERMOI. 

OuK  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  us  the  spirit  of  God.  Thou  art 
wrestling  with  many  a  heart.  With  us  thou  hast  wrestled ;  and  we  have  prevailed.  Thou  hast 
told  us  thy  name  full  oft ;  and  we  have  rejoiced  in  it— ia,  name  of  power,  a  name  of  glory  above 
every  name  that  is  named.  Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  there  may  be  sent  to  those  that  are 
now  in  need  of  this  transformation  of  thy  Spirit,  the  vrrestling  angel.  Grant  that  they  may  feel 
their  deep  want  and  their  necessity,  and  that  they  may  clasp  thee,  nor  suffer  thee  to  depart  till 
thou  dost  leave  the  blessing  behind  which  their  souls  need.  May  there  be  many  that  shall  dis- 
cover thy  name.    May  it  be  Love  to  those  that  are  dying  for  lack  of  love. 

Go  with  us  to  our  homes.  Go  with  us  through  the  week.  Strengthen  us  for  our  duties. 
And  finally,  O  blessed  Saviour  1  by  thy  great  love  bring  us  safely  through  the  mortal  struggle  to 
our  heavenly  home.    And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise.  Father,  Son,  and  Spuit.  Anwi. 


V. 

Counting  the  Cost. 


COUNTING  THE  COST. 

SUNDAY    MORNING,   APRIL    11,   1869. 


"  For  wliicli  of  you,  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth  not  down  first,  and  count- 
eth  the  cost,  whether  he  have  sufficient  to  finish  it  ?" — Luke  xiv.  28. 


Feom  the  context,  lightly  considered,  the  argument  Avould  seem 
to  be  against  haste  in  becoming  religious ;  but  it  is  not.  It  is  against 
superficial  and  shallow  religion — not  against  immediateness.  It  is  an 
argument  for  earnestness  in  religion,  rather  than  for  delay  and  cau- 
tion. For  the  crowd,  caught  by  their  imagination  and  their  fancy, 
were  thronging  to  Christ  Avith  altogether  an  insufficient  conception 
of  what  his  preaching  meant,  and  of  what  discipleship  imj)lied.  It  was 
to  deepen  the  conception  of  religion  that  he  used  these  figures  and 
parables.  "  Counting  the  cost  " — that  is  a  calculation  of  value,  of 
course.  A  man  may  calculate  whether  to  build  little  or  much ; 
whether  to  build  expensively  or  cheaply  ;  whether  to  decorate  pro- 
fusely, or  line  down  the  expense  to  a  minimum.  But  there  is  a  calcu- 
lation which  lies  back  of  all  this,  aiid  is  of  even  more  importance  than 
this.  It  is,  Avhether  one  shall  go  without  a  dwelling,  or  shall  have 
one ;  whether  one  can,  beginning  to  build,  bear  the  expense.  The 
expense  depends  largely  upon  how  sumptuously  he  builds,  as  well  as 
who  builds  for  him. 

But  there  is  another  question.  Can  a  man  go  without  building  ? 
That  is  to  be  counted  just  as  much  as  the  other.  It  is  twofold. 
When  you  count  the  cost,  you  must  say,  "  Can  I  afford  to  build  ?" 
And  then  you  must  say,  "  Can  I  afford  to  go  without  a  shelter  and  a 
home  ?"  And  this  second  question  is  as  really  involved  in  counting 
the  cost  as  the  former  ;  and  it  is  sometimes  by  far  the  more  inipor- 
tant  consideration. 

There  are  thousands  of  persons  who,  without  formally  executing 
a  calculation,  have  virtually  decided  that  they  can  not  afford  to  enter 
upon  a  religious  life.     They  respect  religion.     They  wish  that  they 

Lessox  :    I.  Thes.  v.  1-04.  Hyjtns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  3M,  GOO,  566. 


76  COUNTING    THE    COST. 

had  religion.  They  would  be  glad  if,  iu  some  way  or  other,  it  was 
wrought  upon  them  or  within  them.  Yet,  on  the  whole,  uppn  count- 
ing the  cost,  they  determine  that  they  can  not  be  religious.  Some- 
tinjes  they  even  say  it.  Sometimes  they  say  it,  qualified  by  the  ar- 
ticle of  time.     They  can  not  be  religious  now. 

But  flir  ofteuer  this  is  the  latent  determination  rather  than  the 
avowed  and  expressed  condition  of  men.  Men  look  upon  a  delibe- 
rate Christian  course,  founded  upon  definite  beliefs,  progressing 
through  various  stages,  fed  by  generic  volitions,  as  a  thing  so  large, 
so  difiicult,  and  even  so  painful  and  gloomy,  that  they  shrink  from 
undertaking  it,  and  either  put  it  by — which  is  only  a  masked  way  of 
refusing  it — or  else  positively  decline  it.  At  one  time  and  another,  1 
suppose  all  the  following  reasons  against  imder taking  a  I'eligious 
life  pass  through  the  minds  of  men  Avho  are  moderately  thoughtful 
in  respect  to  moral  subjects. 

First.  That  religion  is  a  mystic  thing,  intangible,  indefinite,  and^ 
being  a  matter  of  inspiration,  is  scarcely  to  be  sought  by  the  unaided 
reason  of  man.  If  given  with  irresistible  impulse,  well ;  but  it  is  too 
subtle,  too  vague,  and  too  remote,  to  be  sought.  "  Men,"  say  they, 
"  should  be  practical  We  will  do  our  duty  as  far  as  it  appears  from 
day  to  day  ;  and  if  there  is  any  thing  else  besides  that,  why,  we  must 
wait  until  it  is  revealed  to  us."  And  so  men,  under  this  plausible 
form  of  selfishness,  under  this  deceiving  term  2?ract leal,  substantially 
avow  this :  Having  two  natures — a  physical  nature  and  a  sj)iritual 
one — we  will  do  whatever  our  physical  nature  seems  to  require  of 
us ;  and  the  spiritual  one,  being  a  little  more  difficult  to  train  and  to 
educate,  we  will  let  God  take  care  of  that.  We  will  do  nothing — 
for  this  is  what  it  really  amounts  to.  When  men  say,  "  I  will  per- 
form my  jjractical  duties  every  day,  and  then,  as  to  any  thing  else,  I 
must  depend  on  God's  grace,"  what  they  mean  by  "  practical  duties," 
is,  sensuous  duties.  But  the  duty  of  thought,  and  the  duty  of  senti- 
ment, and  the  duty  of  aspiration,  and  the  duty  of  love — these  ai'e  as 
practical  as  is  the  duty  of  common  morality.  The  provision  of  rai- 
ment and  food  for  the  household  is  not  one  whit  more  practical  than 
is  devotion,  than  is  faith,  than  is  hope. 

What  men,  then,  really  mean  is  this  :  It  is  easier  to  live  a  sen- 
suous life,  and  to  live  a  moderately  correct  sensuous  life,  and  let  the 
spiritual  life  go.  Stripped  of  all  disguises,  that  is  the  sum  of  all  this 
reasoning. 

Then,  again,  men  urge  that  the  inherent  difiiculty  of  holding  the 
soul  in  control,  and  of  ti'aining  the  inward  disposition  is  almost  insu- 
perable, and  that  unless  power  is  given  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  men  must 
wait.  And  so  there  are  many  that  do  wait,  not  only  through  the 
winter,  but  just  as  much  through  the  summer.      And  they  are  like 


COUNTING    THE    COST.  77 

men  that  are  liusbandmen,  who  say,  "  Sucli  is  the  vastness  of  nature, 
so  subtle  are  natural  laws  and  processes,  and  so  impossible  is  it  that  a 
man  should  rear  harvests  unless  the  light  that  is  in  the  sun  is  exerted 
in  his  behalf,  that  all  that  we  can  do  is  to  wait  for  the  seasons." 
That  is  a  good  reason  for  Avaiting,  in  January  ;  but  is  it  a  good  rea- 
son for  waiting  in  June  ?  There  is  truth  in  this,  that  no  husbandry 
can  take  place  without  the  cooperation  of  great  natural  laws ;  but 
does  any  man  feel  that  on  that  account  he  is  justified  in  folding  his 
hands  and  doing  nothing  ?  And  yet,  a  man's  dependence  is  in  no  re- 
spect more  upon  God  for  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  by  which 
we  cultivate  spiritual  graces,  than  is  the  husbandman's  upon  the  nat- 
ural sun  and  the  seasons. 

It  is  said,  again,  that  the  difficulty  of  overcoming  evil  habits  is  so 
great,  that  the  difficulty  of  correcting  evil  dispositions  has  been  proved 
by  ten  thousand  instances  to  be  so  trying,  that  a  man  may  well  doubt 
of  success  ;  and  there  be  many  that,  therefore,  look  upon  themselves, 
'almost  as  sick  j^eople  sometimes  do,  who  having  tried  all  nostrums, 
as  well  as  all  medicines,  all  quacks  as  well  as  all  physicians,  and  hav- 
ing themselves  tried  Avhat  their  own  limited  experience  co'uld 
dilitate,  sit  down  in  discouragement  to  die.  There  be  many  that 
•speak  of  their  souls  as  such  persons  do  of  their  bodies,  saying,  "My 
constitution  is  broken  up.  I  can  not  hold  out  much  longer.  There  is 
little  use  in  my  attempting  to  do  any  thing.  I  must  simply  smooth 
my  way  the  few  remaining  days,  and  then  die."  But  are  men  prejDared 
to  say  this  in  resj^ect  to  their  souls  ?     And  yet,  it  amounts  to  this. 

The  difficulty  of  breaking  off  evil  habits  is  great;  but  if  they  are 
not  overcome,  what  then  ?  The  difficulty  of  correcting  evil  disposi- 
tions is  great.  No  man  has  over-estimated  it.  What  then  ?  Do  you 
mean  to  say  this  deliberately,  "  I  give  myself  over  evermore  to  evil 
habits ;  and  since  it  is  very  hard  to  correct  dispositions,  I  yield  to 
them.  Proud  am  I,  and  pride  is  hard  to  restrain  :  it  shall  not  be  re- 
strained. I  will  not  try.  Gross  and  sensuous  am  I,  and  my  expe- 
rience has  taught  me  that  it  requires  an  amount  of  watching  and  fer- 
vor of  purpose,  and  a  determination  of  will,  such  that  I  despair  "  ? 
"What  then?  Do  yoii  surrender?  You  say,  "The  difficulty  is  so 
great  that,  when  I  come  to  count  the  cost,  I  do  not  dare  to  A^enture." 
Why  not  say  it  in  plain  English  ?  "I  give  up  the  whole  question  of 
my  soul's  salvation  forever  and  forever.  Let  it  go ;  let  it  go.  Eat, 
now,  drink,  and  be  merry :  to-morrow  I  shall  die."  Why  not  put  it 
in  plain  English?     For  that  is  Avhat  the  reasoning  comes  to. 

There  are  those  who  say,  or  think,  in  addition  to  these  things, 
"Religion  is  not  so  much  the  result  of  personal  volition,  perhap«, 
after  all,  as  the  resultant  of  all  the  forces  acting  upon  a  man  through 
his  whole  life  ;  and  therefore  it  is  not  worth  while  to  strive  after  the 


78  COUNTING    THE    COST. 

impracticable.  It  is  not  worth  a  man's  wliile  to  fret  himself  with 
special  endeavors.  God  has  so  organized  human  society  that  it  is  a 
vast  training  instrument,  and  men  are  trained  by  laws,  and  are 
trained  by  tlieir  business,  and  are  trained  by  their  associates,  and 
are  trained  in  the  household.  A  man  is  pretty  much  what  all  these 
fortunate  or  unfortunate  influences  tend  to  make  him.  And  it  is 
scarcely  worth  while  for  a  man  to  do  much."  This  is  the  thought  of 
not  a  few.  It  is  simply  fatalism.  It  is  the  surrendering  of  man's  man- 
hood. It  is  the  declaration  of  a  man  that  he  has  no  more  power  over 
his  circumstapces  than  the  leaf  has  over  its.  It  is  the  uncrowning  oi 
himself.  Beginning  with  the  lower  creation,  this  plea  is  true.  The 
summer  fruit  is  the  resultant  of  the  action  of  physical  causes.  As 
you  come  into  the  animal  kingdom,  if  there  be  any  such  thing  as 
rising  and  development  in  progress,  it  is  true  that  in  the  animal  king- 
dom, step  by  step,  the  liberty  and  power  of  the  creature  over  his  cir- 
cumstances augment.  A  man  is  distinguished  from  the  animal  creation 
among  other  things  by  this  preeminently — that  while  he,  too,  is  as^ 
to  his  body  subject  to  great  natural  laws,  and  while  his  liberty  is 
botmded  by  a  definite  circle,  yet  within  that  circle,  with  a  larger 
force  than  any  other  created  thing,  he  is  the  master  of  his  circinn- 
stances  and  of  himself. 

If  a  man  says,  "  I  am  what  the  mountains  make  me,  or  the  plain  ;  I 
am  Avhat  the  zones  make  me ;  if  I  live  in  the  torrid  zone,  I  am  one  thing, 
and  if  in  the  temperate,  another ;  I  am  the  creature  of  long  winters 
and  short  summers,  or  of  long  summers  and  short  winters  ;  I  am  better 
or  worse  according  to  the  nation  in  which  I  was  boru,"  all  these 
things  have  an  influence.  But  if  a  man  says  he  is  the  mere  effect  of 
these  great  laws,  he  takes  the  crown  off  from  his  head,  and  ranks 
himself,  I  will  not  say  below  manhood,  but  below  beasthood.  He 
comes  back  to  inorganic  creation ;  and  all  tljat  has  been  gained  in 
the  evolution  of  creation,  by  which  mere  matter,  organized,  has 
risen  up  to  intelligence,  and  from  intelligence  to  liberty,  and  from 
liberty,  tlu-ough  culture  and  spirituality,  to  a  boundless  liberty — all 
this  he  throws  away,  and  says,  "  I  am  a  creature  of  circumstances 
— not  a  creature  of  my  own  self-control." 

Men  look,  again,  upon  the  situation  in  which  they  find  them- 
selves; they  perceive  and  estimate  the  power  of  symj^athy  in  them 
with  the  world  around  them  ;  and  they  form  the  estimate ;  and  they 
say,  "Is  it  pi'obable  that  one  situated  as  I  am,  so  easily  moved,  drawn 
by  the  company  that  I  am  in,  laughing  with  the  gay  and  weeping 
with  the  sad,  rising  in  my  pulse  and  my  emotion,  (for  as  the  thermome- 
ter rises  with  the  thermic  conditions,  so  I  come  up,  or  I  go  down,)  and 
being,  as  experience  has  shown  me  that  I  am,  in  sympathy  with  pretty 
much  all  the  things  that  are  round  about  me — is  it  probable  that  I  can 


COUNTINQ    TEE    COST.  '79 

break  up  the  strong  bias,  and  come  out  from  such  sympathies  as 
these,  aucl  become  a  Christian  ?"  Men  often,  on  counting  the  cost, 
say,  "  I  know  I  can  not.  What  is  the  use  of  my  trying  ?  I  am  sure 
I  can  not  do  it." 

"  And  why  should  I  repeat,"  say  some,  "  the  experiment  of  years  ? 
I  have  run  in  toward  religion  as  often  almost  as  tlie  tides  have  run 
toward  the  shore  ;  I  have  been  refluent  as  the  tides,  and  gone  back 
again  to  the  sea,  from  whence  I  came.  Why  should  I  ?"  Counting 
the  cost,  men  say,  "  My  sympathetic  nature  is  such  that  it  is  quite 
\  hoiDcless  for  me  to  attempt  to  become  a  Christian.  I  must  be  made 
one  by  something  stronger  than  I  am,  or  I  never  shall  be  one." 

To  reenforce  such  reasoning,  men  consider  and  estimate,  likewise, 
the  retentive  power  of  organized  business,  which  absorbs  their  time 
and  strength,  and  which  a  man  can  not  any  more  get  out  of  at 
his  will  than  a  passenger  on  an  ocean  voyage  can,  at  his  mere  will, 
get  out  of  the  ship  in  Avhich  he  is  sailing.  Men's  business  is  not  a 
thing  which  they  can  easily  let  go  or  take  up  as  they  please.  As  it 
were,  it  is  a  vast  machine.  They  are  as  a  wheel  in  it.  And  in  the 
revolution  of  affairs  they  must  keep  step.  And  men  say,  "  If  there 
were  no  other  reasons,  this  would  make  it  hopeless  for  me  to  attempt 
to  become  a  Christian.  I  can  not  lay  aside  my  business.  It  will  not 
let  go  of  me."  Just  as  if  a  Christian  man  was  not  bound  to  conduct 
every  lawful  business  just  as  much  as  if  he  was  not  a  Christian  !  As 
if  it  would  take  a  man  any  longer  to  conduct  business  on  right  j)rin- 
ciples  than  it  does  on  wrong !  As  if  it  took  any  more  time  for  a  man 
to  be  benevolent  than  it  does  to  be  selfish  !  As  if  it  took  any  more 
time  for  a  man  to  negotiate  honestly  than  it  does  craftily  !  I  say  it 
takes  more  time  for  a  man  to  conduct  business  wickedly  th  m  it  does 
to  conduct  it  virtuously. 

Men  say,  "  I  can  not  stop  my  business  to  be  a  Christian."  Do 
not  stop  it.  Let  it  go  on.  You  go  on  with  it ;  but  go  on  with  it  as 
a  Christian  man  should.  "  I  have  not  time."  Have  not  time  !  All 
that  I  ask  is,  that,  as  the  moments  pulsate,  you  shall  tlirow  into  them 
the  life  of  a  true  Christian  manhood,  instead  of  the  selfish  life  of  the 
animal,  or  the  half-civilized  animal. 

This  M  hole  plea  that  a  man  must  dismount  in  order  to  become  a 
Christian,  that  he  has  got  to  turn  back  from  active  business  into 
Bome  ca^e,  and,  monk-like,  go  through  a  certain  amount  of  experi- 
ence, where,  being  purged,  and  scoured,  and  cleaned,  he  then  can  be 
turned  out  again,  and  take  hold  of  his  business  afresh — it  is  all  a 
delusion.  If  a  man  is  a  merchant,  be  a  merchant ;  but  be  a  Christian 
merchant.  If  a  man  is  a  mechanic,  continue  a  mechanic ;  but  be  a 
Christian  mechanic.  ■  If  a  man  be  a  public  servant,  be  a  statesman  ; 
but  be  a  Christian  statesman.     When,  therefore,  men  counting  the 


80  COUNTING    THE    COST. 

cost,  ponder  aud  say,  "  My  business  is  so  extended,  or  so  ensnaring 
that  it  will  not  let  me. go,"  I  say.  You  do  not  need  to  be  let  go. 
To  be  a  Christian  does  not  require  it. 

A^ain,  the  feeble  virtues  that  men  have  at  various  times  essayed, 
have  revealed  to  them  the  real  power  in  them  of  certain  passions,  of 
certain  inbred  dispositions,  and  of  certain  sins.  There  are  men  that 
know,  or  that  think  they  know,  that  they  shall  fall.  "  If  I  am 
brought,"  say  some,  "  under  such  circumstances,  I  know  perfectly 
well  that  all  the  j^rofession  of  religion  in  the  world  would  not  make 
any  difference  with  me.  I  should  break  out  and  fii'e  with  anger; 
and  can  I  deliberately  profess  to  be  a  Christian  when  I  know  that  I 
can  not  control  that  passion  ?" 

'  Another  man  says,  "I  know  perfectly  well  that  I  have  a  selfisli 
pride,  an  intensity  of  self-consideration ;  and  it  would  be  the  utter- 
most folly  in  me  to  come  before  a  congregation  and  profess  thait  I 
had  accepted  benevolence  as  a  law  of  my  life.  I  know  that  inbred 
disposition  is  in  me  ;  and  that  I  must  carry  it  in  me  as  long  as  I  live." 
Other  men  say,  "Do  not  I  know  those  sins  of  passion,  those 
secret  sins  of  lust  ?  I  know  perfectly  well  how  they  have  controlled, 
and  how  they  will  control."  Sometimes  men  are  almost  afraid  to 
touch  them  or  talk  about  them,  for  fear  that  they  shall  spring  back 
upon  them.  But  what  should  we  think  of  men  that  were  suffering 
from  neuralgia,  Avho,  if  their  friends  should  gather  together  and  say- 
to  th'em,  "A  physician  has  been  found  Avho  professes  to  cure,  and 
who  has  had  great  success  in  curing  this  disease,"  should  say  to 
them,  "For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  say  a  word  to  me  about  that.  I 
have  just  this  moment  got  relieved  from  an  awful  fiery  paroxysm ; 
and  if  I  should  have  a  doctor,  I  should  in  all  probability,  right  before 
his  face,  fall  into  one  of  these  horrible  states.  I  can  not  profess  to  be 
a  convalescent  under  any  doctor.  I  know  that  neuralgia  will  come 
back  on  me."  As  if  you  had  had  an  invitation  to  make  believe  that 
you  are  a  well  man  !  It  was  not  that  at  all.  It  was  that  you  should 
put  yourself  under  the  care  of  a  physician,  that  you  might  take  some 
steps  toward  convalescence ;  that  you  might  employ  both  the 
remedy  aud  the  regimen  by  which  you  would  grow  more  and  more 
toward  health.  No  man  supposes  that  he  overcomes,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  at  one  blow,  all  the  wickedness  that  there  is  in  him.  A  man 
that  becomes  a  Christian,  being  j^roud,  must  go  through  a  jii^j'ocess  by 
which  that  j)ride  shall  learn  how  to  clothe  itself  with  Christian  dis- 
positions. A  man  that  is  very  selfish,  becoming  a  Christian,  has  a 
battle  yet  to  fight  with  that  selfishness  ;  because  conversion  does 
not  take  it  away  from  him.  Conversion  merely  puts  him  to  school, 
that  it  may  teach  him  to  train  it  aright.  A  man  excessively  addicted 
to  the  world  is  not  going  out  to  be  lifted  above  the  w^n'ld  wholly  tc 


COUNTING  .THE    COST.  81 

be  seen  of  men.  If  a  nican  is  going  'to  be  a  good  and  detout  Chris- 
tian, lie  has  a  work  to  do.  The  overture  of  the  Gospel  is  not  that 
you  should  take  it  as  work  completed,  but  as  little  children  in  the 
kingdom  of  God — in  the  school  of  Christ — and  begin  to  study.  la 
your  ignorance  enter  the  church,  or  rather  enter  a  Christian  life  by 
the  help  of  the  church,  for  the  sake  of  convalescence.     Begin  cure. 

If,  therefore,  a  man  says,  "  I  have  certain  passions  and  iubred  sins 
and  dis^iositions  that  I  know  I  can  not  overcome,"  I  know  you  can 
not  overcome  them  as  long  as  you  pamper  them.  I  know  you  can  not 
as  long  as  you  excuse  them.  I  know  that,  just  as  long  as  you  hide  be- 
hind them,  and  shelter  yourself  from  those  vivific  influences  by  which 
alone  the  soul  can  rise  to  its  higher  life  and  to  its  supernal  nature, 
you  can  not  do  these  things.  I  know  that  you  can  not  do  them  so  long 
as  you  hold  yourself  aloof.  No  man  overcomes  difliculties  by  cow- 
ardice. 

But  there  is  no  passion,  and  there  are  no  lusts,  and  there  is  no 
stature  of  pride,  and  there  is  no  frivolity  of  vanity,  and  there  is  no 
wide,  dilFusive  selfishness,  which  can  not  be  overcome  by  the  grace  of 
God,  if  once  a  man  will  enter  the  warfare ;  but  it  is  to  be  a  warfare, 
and  it  is  to  be  begun.  It  will  never  come  to  a  man  as  a  completed 
victory ;  but  it  Avill  come  to  him,  if  he  be  victor  at  all,  when  he  has 
earned  it  at  the  point  of  his  spear,  and  by  the  edge  of  his  sword. 

But  there  are  many  who  reason  in  themselves  that  it  is  useless  for 
them  to  think  of  attempting  a  religious  life,  because  they  have  really 
no  moral  feeling,  and  very  little  interest  in  religion.  Moral  vis  iner- 
tice  is  the  plea,  and  they  are  indiflerent  to  the  subject.  "  Is  it  proba- 
ble," they  say,  "  that  a  man  will  ever  be  less  indiflerent  ?  If  a  man, 
already  under  all  the  influences  which  are  brought  to  bear,  in  a  Chris- 
tian community,  on  the  conscience  and  the  understanding,  has  very 
little  moral  feeling,  is  it  likely  that,  as  he  grows  older,  and  his  feelings 
grow  naturally  less  and  less  resilient,  he  will  increase  iu  feeling? 
On  this  very  subject,"  men  say,  "I  have  counted  the  cost.  I  do  not 
think  it  is  likely.  As  for  me,  I  do  not  feel ;  and  until  I  do  feel,  how 
shall  I  act  ?" 

It  is  at  this  point,  too,  that  all  the  uncertainties  arise,  and  men 
Bay  within  themselves — men  that  are  given  to  thinking — "  Am  I  not 
as  good  as  a  great  many  men  that  are  Christians,  or  that  call  them- 
selves so  ?"  There  is  many  a  man  that  is  better  in  one  sense,  but 
that  is  a  great  deal  worse  in  another.  There  are  many  men  who  are 
born  with  every  single  point  of  disposition  in  their  favor.  They  do 
not  get  angry.  Why  ?  Because  their  original  organization  is  so 
balanced  that  there  is  no  clash  or  collision  in  themselves.  They  have 
a  harmonious  adjustment  of  their  faculties,  and  every  thing  moves  ou 
quietly,  and  they  say,  "  I  am  better  than  that  man  Avho  is  already  in 


82  COUNTmO    THE    COST. 

the  cliurch.  I  am  ashamed  when  I  see  him — to  see  a  man  that  pro- 
fesses religion,  and  that  yet  explodes  and  blazes  as  he  does,  with  uu- 
tempered  and  uncontrolled  feeling.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  get  an- 
gry as  that  man  does."  Why,  you  are  never  tempted  that  way.  You 
are  equable;  your  pulse  does  not  bound  ;  that  man  is  all  fire.  You 
are  perfectly  tempered  and  self-possessed.  That  is  your  peculiarity. 
You  are  no  more  entitled  to  credit  for  that,  than  you  are  for  being 
five  feet  eight  in  height.  That  is  what  God  gave  you  to  start 
with.  That  man  has  a  fiery  temper.  He  has  fought  it  with  tears, 
with  i^rayers,  with  watchings ;  and,  though  he  has  not  gained 
such  victories  as  he  could  have  desired,  or  as  his  friends  desired,  God 
sees  that  there  is  many  a  Waterloo  that  is  fought  in  the  soul  of  a 
man  without  any  historian  to  record  it.  God  sees  that  there  is  many 
and  many  a  man  who  lays  out  more  strength  and  real  effort  to  over- 
come a  bad  temper,  than  you,  peaceable,  placable  man,  Avill  lay  out 
in  the  whole  of  your  life.  He,  in  every  year,  does  more  real,  more 
heroic  work,  more  self-denying  work,  than  you  will  do  in  your  whole 
life.  And  yet  you  are  a  better  man  than  he,  in  one  sense.  You  do 
not  swear.  If  he  does  not,  it  is  not  because  he  does  not  feel  like  it. 
You  are  never  tempted.  He  has  a  thousand  temptations  ;  and  per- 
haps, the  great  majority  of  them  he  dashes  to  the  ground,  and  over- 
comes. Now  and  then  he  is  overborne,  and  you  stand  and  point  at 
him. 

Here  are  two  men  starting  upon  a  journey — one  a  perfect  athlete. 
For  him  to  walk  and  to  run  is  no  more"  than  for  a  grayhound.  He 
starts  upon  his  journey.  He  makes  his  thirty,  or  forty,  or  fifty  miles 
a  day,  without  the  least  difficulty.  The  man  that  starts  with  him  on 
the  same  journey  was  born  a  cripple,  and  he  suffers  excessively. 
He  is  club-footed ;  one  of  his  limbs  is  shorter  than  the  other  ;  and  at 
every  step  a  pain  shoots  through  his  loins.  With  twisted  feet,  and 
feeble,  at  any  rate,  he  hobbles  along.  And  your  nimble  man  comes 
past  him  in  the  morning,  bright  and  lithe,  and  laughs,  and  says,  "  This 
is  a  traveler  !  We  are  both  travelers  !  How  does  he  compare  Avith 
me  ?"  That  man  makes  fifty  miles,  and  this  man  makes  five  ;  but  in 
making  five,  he  has  done  more  than  the  other  man  would  in  making 
fifty  or  five  hundred.  For  the  first  man  runs  with  his  nature.  He  has 
very  little  to  overcome,  very  little  to  excite,  very  little  that  requires 
courage,  or  heroism,  or  hardihood,  or  endurance,  or  any  manly  trait. 
It  is  queer  water  that  will  not  run  down-hill.  It  is  strange,  Avhen 
a  man  is  so  organized  that  he  can  be  virtuous  easier  than  any  thing 
else,  and  he  runs  down-hill  in  that  direction,  if  he  is  not  good  to  that 
extent.  But  Avhere  a  man  has  the  torment  of  a  bad  endowment,  and 
he  has  made  headway  against  it,  he  may  be,  in  one  sense,  worse  than 
you  are.     And  yet,  God  says  that  the  publicans  and  the  harlots  will 


COUNTING    TEE    COST.  83 

enter  the  kingdom  of  God  before  many  of  you  will.  If  you  could 
measure  the  degree  of  effort  that  they  have  put  forth,  and  the  light 
and  the  opportunities  that  they  have  had ;  if  you  could  measure  the 
whole  problem,  and  not  merely  the  external  surface  of  it,  you  would 
see  that  those  who  accomplish  the  least  are  sometimes  deserving  of 
the  most  credit. 

At  this  point  it  is,  too,  in  determining  whether  they  shall  come 
into  the  church,  that  they  say,  "  There  is  no  need  of  it.  I  ajji  as  good 
already  as  those  who  are  in  the  church" — which  is  very  likely  true. 
That  is  to  say,  they  may  be  as  good  externally. 

Ah  friends!  do  you  know  that  when  persons  wish  to  compare 
themselves  with  professors  of  religion,  in  order  to  excuse  themselves, 
in  order  to  find  some  justification  for  their  own  torpidity  and  their 
own  indifference,  they  never  pick  very  wisely  ?  They  do  not  come 
into  the  church  and  pick  out  the  persons  that  are  really  Christians. 
They  always  pick  out  the  scapegraces.  If  there  is  a  man  that  ought 
not  to  be  in  the  church,  they  know  it  as  quick  as  a  crow  knows  where 
carrion  is,  and  they  will  take  that  man  and  hold  him  uj),  and  say, 
"  That  is  your  Christian,  is  it  ?  I  do  not  need  to  become  a  Christian. 
I  am  as  good  as  that  already."  You  will  find  that  they  will  select,  if 
not  such  ones  as  these,  then,  men  that  are  in  the  midst  of  battle — for 
I  consider  a  man  that  is  doing  business  in  New-York  to  be  just  like 
a  man  that  is  in  contest  on  the  battle-field.  In  the  whirl  and  din  of 
the  battle-field,  a  man  does  not  always  step  in  the  best  places,  nor 
with  the  most  graceful  postures  and  gestures.  It  is  a  strife  for  life  to 
him,  and  no  matter  what  he  does  in  the  hour  of  conflict.  "We  do  not 
look  for  the  best  aspects  of  a  man  in  that  moment  wlien  he  is  striving 
for  his -own  life.  And  so  it  is  when  men  are  beset;  when  they  are 
under  the  most  powerful  temptations;  when  they  are  bei«g  swung 
and  swirled  through  the  whirlpools  that  are  sucking  down  so  many. 
Here  is  a  man  that  may  be  a  very  good  man,  but  that  is  cornered  by 
circumstances  which  are  so  strong  that  he  is  twisted  this  way  and 
that,  until,  when  he  comes  out,  he  is  disheveled ;  and  people  stand 
and  look  on  him,  and  say,  "  Do  you  know  that  man  ?  He  is  a  deacon  ! 
— a  deacon  P^  They  lie  in  wait.  I  have  known  men  that  watched 
after  professors  of  religion.  I  have  a  cat  in  the  country,  that,  know- 
ing that  there  is  a  rat  in  the  drain,  will  lie  crouched  in  the  grass  for  six 
hours  together,  waiting  for  that  rat  to  come  out.  And  I  know  peo- 
ple that  watch  at  doors  where  Christians  are  to  come  out,  just  as 
j)atiently,  and  with  just  as  much  humanity  !  They  like  religion  ;  but 
they  like  to  see  folks  that  have  got  religion,  or  that  make  believe  that 
they  have  got  it,  show  that  they  have  it.  And  so  they  watch  all 
ai'ound,  and  spy  out  the  faults  of  professed  Christians,  and  say,  "If 
those  are  Christians,  I  do  not  need  to  become  a  Christian." 


84  COUNTING     THE    COST. 

All !  the  best  Christians,  frequently,  are  those  who  are  fighting 
the  battle  of  poverty,  and  whose  name  nobody  hears.  Go  ask  God'a 
angels  where  they  see  the  most  courage.  Not  at  the  cannosi's  mouth  ; 
not  at  the  hilted  sword.  Go  see  that  saintly  Christian  mother  that, 
for  the  sj)ace  of  twenty  years,  has  suifered.days  and  nights  of  pain,  in 
order  to  give,  literally,  her  life  for  her  children.  Left,  when  her  hus- 
band died,  a  widow,  in  extreme  poverty,  she  determines,  by  the  love 
she  bore  him,  as  well  as  by  the  love  she  bears  them,  that  they  shall 
grow  up  to  intelligence  and  education ;  and  through  toiling  pain,  aa 
much  as  martyrs  feel  at  the  stake,  by  day  and  by  night,  willingly,  in 
long  months^oh!  how  long  the  year  is  to  misery! — she  has  given 
herself  to  these  children.  And  now,  one  by  one,  as  they  have  come 
ni^on  the  stage,  in  answer  to  her  heroic  efforts,  they  are  prospered. 
But  the  sands  are  running  out.  She  has  used  herself  up.  And  at  that 
time  when  woman  should  become  matron,  and,  after  all  her  suffering 
and  shattering,  should  begin  to  be  serene  and  happy,-  her  forces  are  fail- 
ing ;  and  in  poverty  she  is  dying.  She  looks  back  upon  her  whole 
life,  and  there  has  never  been  a  day  that  has  not  been  bitter.  There 
has  never  been  a  day  in  which  she  could  have  lived  if  she  had  not  be- 
lieved in  God;  and  now  she  is  dying.  Ask  God's  angels  if  there  is 
any  hero  on  the  battle-field  that  is  so  heroic  as  this  poor,  spent  Chris- 
tian, that  is  dying,  and  glad  to  die ;  that  has  literally  poured  her  life 
out  like  a  cup  of  bitterness  and  pain  for  other  people. 

Now  tell  me,  are  you  a  Christian  ?  You  pick  out  men  that  are  in 
the  hurly-burly  of  life,  and  see  their  imjjerfections — why  do  not  you 
go  to  this  saint  that  is  dying  in  poverty  and  obscurity  ?  Why  do 
not  you  see  what  noble  sisters  there  are  ?  Why  do  not  you  seek  out 
the  heroic  martyrs  in  the  domestic  sphere  ?  Here  is  Avhere  .you  are 
to  find  the  truest  Christians,  Here  is  where  heavenly  beauty  may  be 
found.  And  you  know,  and  I  know,  and  every  man  knows,  who  is 
acquainted  with  society,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  Christian  life, 
and  ^hat  there  are  Christians  compared  with  which  you  are  a  poor 
miserable  starveling. 

Here  it  is,  too,  that,  in  making  this  count,  men  are  accustomed  to 
plead  their  doubts.  "  Who  knows,"  say  they,  "  whether  religion  is, 
after  all,  what  it  is  thought  to  be  ?  Who  knows  whether  it  is  any 
thing  but  a  fantasy  ? — an  amiable  fantasy,  a  poetic  fantasy,  an  exhilara- 
tion, very  j^leasing,  very  desirable,  but  having  no  solid  substratum — 
no  basis  in  fxct  and  truth  ?  Who  knows,  after  all,  Avhether  religion 
so  called,  is  more  than  a  poet's  dream?  Why  should  I  spend  my 
time  seeking  after  this  will-of-the-wisp  ?  How  can  I  be  to  blame  for 
doubting  pretty  much  every  thing,  when  I  find  that  the  churches,  one 
after  another,  doubt  pretty  much  every  thing  ?  Every  church  thinks 
it  is  right,  and  all  the  rest  wrong;  each  church  has  its  specialty, 


COUNTING    TEE    COST.  85 

and  thinks  its  specialty  is  right,  and  that  the  specialties  of  all  the 
other  churches  are  wrong.  So  tliat  if  you  take  the  sum  of  all  the  dis- 
believiugs  of  churches,  you  will  find  that  the  ch  arches  themselves 
are  the  fathers  of  infidelity." 

To  some  extent  this  may  be  true  ;  but  it  is  an  important  distinction 
to  Avhich  I  call  your  attention — that  with  all  the  sects  in  Christen- 
dom, perhajis,  with  inconspicuous  exceptions,  the  things  to  be  sought 
men  agree  about.  They  disagree  only  as  to  the  method  of  seeking 
them.  All  Christians  are  united  in  respect  to  the  ends  gained.  The 
instruments  by  which  you  are  to  gain  these  great  ends,  men  quarrel 
about. 

Now,  the  main  and  most  important  thing  for  every  man  to  con- 
sider, is.  What  are  the  ends  and  the  aims  of  life  ?  And  if  you  ask 
that,  there  is  substantial  agreement  among  all  Christians.  Men  dis- 
pute, for  instance,  as  to  the  attributes  of  God  ;  but  that  is  a  mere 
question  of  mental  philoso2)hy.  Does  any  one  dispute  as  to  whether 
a  man  is  proud  and  selfish  ?  Does  any  man  dispute  as  to  whether  a 
man  is  unintelligent  and  ignorant  ?  Is  there  any  difference  between 
Protestant  and  Catholic  in  the  belief  tliat  all  men  are  low ;  that  all 
men  need  both  divine  and  human  illumination  ?  Is  there  any  difference 
among  Protestants  ?  Do  not  all  the  sects,  of  Protestants  agree  that 
men  need  to  be  born  again  ?  One  will  explain  what  being  horn  again 
is  in  one  way,  and  another  will  explain  it  in  another  way  ;  but  it 
comes  to  this,  that  a  man'  should  be  lifted  up  out  of  self-seeking  vul- 
garity, out  of  the  realm  of  the  appetites  and  passions  ;  and  that  he 
should  become  a  rational  creature,  a  spiritual  being,  a  true  and  de- 
vout worshiper  of  God.  The  great  end  that  religion  seeks  in  man — 
namely,  the  regeneration  and  enriching  of  his  spiritual  nature — all 
agree  about.  There  is  scarcely  any  difference  in  this  respect  between 
Unitarian  and  Orthodox ;  between  Baptists,  Methodists,  Lutherans, 
Congregationalists,  and  Episcopalians,  high  or  low.  They  are  all  of 
them  quarreling  about  how  to  organize  people  after  they  have  got 
them  into  the  Christian  chuixjh;  they  will  quarrel  about  clothes, 
about  lappets,  and  linens,  and  silks ;  they  will  quarrel  about  robes  ; 
they  will  quarrel  about  the  days  which  we  are  to  use  as  instruments 
of  teaching;  they  will  quarrel  about  churches;  they  will  quarrel 
about  doctrines;  about  speculative  or  philosophical  forms;  but  they 
do  not  quari-el  as  to  this — that  every  man  needs  to  have  the  grace  ot 
God  in  his  soul ;  that  every  man  is  bound  to  love  God ;  that  every 
man  is  bound  to  love  his  fellow-man ;  and  that  tliis  spirit  ought  to  be 
exercised  so  as  to  control  every  one  of  the  vulgar  instincts  of  his  na- 
ture.  All  agree  in  these  things,  and  these  are  the  substantial  things. 

"Why,  here  are,  in  a  neighborhood,  we  may  say,  a  score  of  farmers ; 
and  a  man  goes  through  that  neighborhood  and  hears  them  all  talk- 


86  COUNTING    THE  -COST. 

ing.  He  hears  them  when  they  get  together  at  the  Farmers'  Club. 
And  when  he  goes  away,  he  says,  "  Well,  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
that  there  is  no  use  of  being  a  farmer."  "  Why  ?"  he  is  asked.  "  Oh ! 
husbandry  is  all  a  humbug."  "  How  is  that  ?"  "  Just  hear  them. 
How  they  quarrel  and  dispute  !  There  are  not  two  farmers  in  all 
that  neighborhood  that  agree.  I  Avent  to  hear  them  talk  on  grass  ; 
then  on  wheat ;  then  on  cotton ;  then  on  Indian  corn ;  and  there  were 
just  as  many  theories  and  notions  as  there  were  men.  I  have,  there- 
fore, made  up  my  mind  that  agriculture  is  a  humbug." 

But  let  me  ask  you,  Did  not  every  one  of  these  farmers  raise  corn  ? 
"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  did."  Did  he  not  raise  wheat  ?  "  Yes."  Grass  ? 
"  Oh  !  yes."  Well,  that  is  the  chief  end  of  husbandry,  is  it  not  ?  "  Yes ; 
but  then,  they  did  not  agree  as  to  the  means  of  doing  it."  It  does 
not  make  any  difference  whether  they  did  or  did  not,  if  all  of  them 
meant  wheat,  and  grass,  and  grain,  and  got  it.  One  might  do  it  by 
spring  plowing,  and  another  by  fall  plowing ;  one  might  do  it  by  one 
of  Nourse  &  Mason's  plows,  and  another  might  do  it  by  one  of  Ames's 
plows;  one  might  do  it  by  scarifying,  and  another  one  by  rolling; 
one  might  claim  that  clay  is  to  be  dealt  with  so,  and  another  might 
dispute  it,  because  he  has  a  sand-loam.  Every  one  of  them  might 
quarrel  about  the  implem.ents  they  use,  about  the  time  to  cultivate, 
about  when  to  put  in  the  seed,  and  about  how  to  treat  it  after  it  is  in. 
But  after  all,  they  believe  in  the  one  main  thing.  They  believe  in 
fat  oxen ;  they  believe  in  full  granaries ;  they  believe  in  a  farmer's 
raising  enough  to  clothe  and  feed  himself  and  his  household.  That  is 
what  they  do  believe  in ;  and  they  do  it. 

Now,  God's  husbandmen  are  just  like  a  neighborhood  of  farmers 
that  are  intolerant,  and  that  are  forever  quarreling  with  each  other. 
But,  after  all,  men  are  unanimous  in  seeking  the  meat  of  life,  and  are 
alike  in  all  essential  particulars ;  and  the  variation  that  there  is 
between  them  is  merely  external  and  incidental  in  the  operative 
methods,  and  not  in  the  thing  operated  upon. 

But  there  are  men  who  say,  "  My  doubt  goes  deeper  than  that. 
I  can  not  say  that  I  believe — on  rational  grounds  I  can  not  say  it." 
Oh !  that  men  were  as  willing  to  exi^lore  the  unknown  as  Columbus 
was,  who  saAV  nothing,  who  heard  nothing,  but,  moved  by  an  in- 
vincible fiiith,  through  the  night  and  through  the  day,  through  clo,uds 
and  baffling  winds,  and  in  spite  of  insurrectionary  companions,  still 
pressed  forward  until  the  happiest  hour  of  mortal  life  was  his,  when 
dim  in  the  horizon  he  saw  the  long-believed  land,  long  sought,  and 
now  found.  ■  All  the  reckoning  in  the  world,  nothing  would  have 
convinced  Columbus  that  land  was  not  there,  but  sailing  toward  it. 
That  settled  the  problem. 

Now,  we  hold  out  to  men,  not  certain  theories,  not  a  certain  sched- 


COUNTING    TEE    COST.  87 

iile  of  beliefs.  We  hold  out  to  men  the  idea  of  a,  higher  manhood 
than  belongs  to  them  by  nature.  We  say  that  it  is  possible  to  force 
np  the  faculties.  We  say  that  it  is  possible  to  inspire  your  life  with 
disclosures  and  developments  suah  as  you  know  nothing  of  in  the 
natural  state.  And  we  declare  to  you,  that  you  never  can  find  out 
whether  it  is  true  or  not  except  by  going  toward  it.  Prove  it.  For 
it  is  one  of  those  things  which  are  susceptible  of  demonstration  in  no 
way  so  much  as  by  actual  experiment.  Truths  of  emotion  are  never 
known  by  ratiocination.  They  are  known  only  by  experience.  Pre- 
eminently, religion  is  a  matter  of  personal  experience.  And  there- 
fore when  a  man  says,  "  I  am  rationally  skeptical,"  I  say,  You  are 
irrationally  a  skeptic. 

In  respect  to  all  these  theories  and  reasonings  which  I  have  gone 
over,  and  of  necessity  cursorily,  I  ask  you  whether,  in  looking  them 
over,  you  do  not  recognize  them  as  representing  pretty  much  the 
experience  of  your  own  mind ;  whether,  in  one  shape  or  another, 
these  thoughts  and  reasonings  have  not  come  up  in  your  mind  ? 

I  ask  you  next,  when  you  come  to  look  at  them  drawn  out  conse- 
cutively, chaptered  as  it  were,  do  you  not,  can  you  not,  at  any  rate, 
see  that  this  is  a  view  that  you  have  taken,  a  calculation  that  you 
liave  made,  uufxirly,  unjustly,  purely  from  one  side — namely,  from  the 
side  of  your  lower  natures.  You  have  gone  into  the  calculation  of 
the  chances  of  success  ;  but  altogether  on  the  lower  side. 

I  go  further  than  this.  I  say,  if  any  child  of  yours  should  reason 
about  a  thing  that  was  worth  having  as  you  reason  about  religion, 
you  might  reason  with  the  child,  but  you  would  accompany  your 
reasoning,  I  think,  with  the  cure  for  folly  which  Solomon  exhorts  to  ! 
What  a  pity  it  is  that  family  discipline  has  to  stop  short  at  the  jjoint 
where  it  does !  Many  men  would  be  helped  by  a  good  sound  physical 
argument !     Rubification  would  do  them  good  ! 

If  your  child  says  to  you,  "  My  father,  I  have  been  thinking  of  this 
matter  of  education  of  which  you  talked  to  me,  telling  .me  that  I  must 
be  a  philosopher,  or  an  artist,  or  something  of  that  sort ;  I  have  cal- 
culated the  cliances  ;  and  I  am  so  surrounded  witli  jolly  young  fellows, 
my  companions  are  such  witching  little  devils,  I  so  like  to  do  tricks, 
it  is  so  pleasant  to  have  my  freedom,  and  I  am  in  so  much  doubt 
about  this  whole  matter  of  an  education,  that,  after  looking  at  my 
faculties  and  passions,  I  am  satisfied  I  never  can  do  any  thing  ;  and 
I  rather  doubt  whether  there  is  any  such  thing  as  education,  father, 
anyhow" — if  your  child  should  talk  in  that  way,  Avould  not  you 
call  him  a  fool,  and  answer  him  across  your  knee  ?  And"  yet,  is  he 
doing  any  thing  but  that  which  you  do  where  you  are  called  to  god- 
liness, to  virtue,  to  supereminent  truth,  to  love  ?  If  there  be  a  fact 
in  God's  created  world,  this  is  a  fact — that  when  the  proclamation  of 


88  couNima  the  cost. 

the  Gos^Del,  which  is, "  Love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  is  made  in  your  ears,  you  turn  round  and 
say,  "  "What  is  love  ?  Is  it  possible  that  a  man  can  love,  and  that  his 
character  can  be  moulded  on  such  a  basis  as  this  ?"  Do  not  you  urge 
all  these  vain  reasons  ?  Do  not  you  imitate  that  child  ?  And  is  it 
not  true  that  many  of  the  chastisements  which  you  receive  at  the 
hand  of  God,  are  God's  dealings  with  you  as  with  sons  ?  "  For  what 
son  is  he  whom  tlie  father  chastiseth  not  ?"  Ah  !  because  it  is  so 
sweet  to  be  proud,  you  will  not  be  checked ;  and  does  not  God  lay 
his  hand  on  your  pride  ?  Because  the  remunerations  of  selfislmess 
are  so  tempting  in  the  early  periods  of  life,  you  say  you  can  not  be- 
come disinterested  and  truly  Christian;  and  does  not  God  stand  in 
the  way  to  balk  your  selfishness,  and  turn  your  prosperity  bottom 
side  up  ?  Because  you  say,  "  I  love  myself,  and  my  present  ease," 
does  not  God  vex  your  cradle,  and  your  warehouse,  and  your  sliip  ? 
Does  not  God  stand  in  the  path  in  which  men  are  walking  away  from 
him,  with  a  rod  of  chastisement,  saying,  "  Hear,  O  my  son,  and  turn 
unto  me  !" 

There  is  no  teacher  that  would  permit  a  pupil  to  make  the  same 
excuse  in  school.  You  would  call  him  a  dullard,  and  you  would 
find  motives  to  bring  him  to  study  !  No  parent  that  loves  his  child 
would  allow  him  to  reason  on  the  subject  of  education  as  you  permit 
yourself  to  reason  in  respect  to  your  relations  to  God. 

Count  the  cost,  I  say.  Remember  that  sin  is  the  worst  invest- 
ment that  any  man  can  make.  'No  man  can  afford  to  live  and  be  a 
proud  man.  No  man  can  afford  to  live  and  be  a  lustful  man.  No 
man  can  afford  to  live  and  be  a  coarse  and  sensual  man.  No  man  can 
afford  to  make  an  investment  of  his  whole  nature  in  its  animal  pas- 
sions or  animal  inclinations.  Neither  can  you  afford  to  invest  all  the 
being  that  is  in  you,  in  your  middle  range,  in  your  selfish  instincts, 
in  your  merely  worldly  and  secular  faculties.  No  man  can  afford  to 
invest  his  being  in  any  thing  lower  than  faith,  hope,  love — these  three, 
the  greatest  of  which  is  love.  If  you  invest  in  every  thing  else,  pre- 
sently it  is  bankruptcy,  though  it  may  not  be  in  this  hour.  Woe  be 
to  that  man  who  freights  his  ship,  and  sends  her  across  the  sea  to  a 
distant  port,  to  find  out  that  his  wares  arc  not  marketable ;  that  they 
lie  a  dead  loss  on  his  hands.  "Woe  be  to  that  man  who  freights  himself, 
and  comes  at  last  into  the  port  above,  to  find  that  all  that  he  is,  and 
all  that  he  has,  is  worthless  in  that  sphere. 

Count  the  cost ;  count  the  difficulties ;  count  the  expenditure ; 
count  the  pains  and  penalties ;  and  then  count  on  the  other  side,  and 
see  whether  you  can  afford  to  be  without  God.  Can  you  afford  to  be 
without  the  friendship  of  the  beneficent  Christ?  Can  you  afford  to 
live  without  the  consolations  and  joys  of  a  true  Christian  faith  ?    Can 


COUNTING    TEE    COST.  89 

you  afford  to  go  into  bankrui^tcy,  and  sickness,  and  old  age,  without 
the  staff  and  without  the  rod  of  God  by  your  side?  Can  you  afford 
to  die  unsustained  Ly  hope  ?  Can  you  afford  to  rise  in  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection,  and  put  all  things  at  stake  on  that 
one  glorious,  dreadful  hour,  without  any  friend  in  God,  and  with- 
out any  hope?  Can  you  afford  to  live  witliout  God  and  without 
hope  in  this  world  ?  Yoii  can  not.  No  man,  no  matter  how  re- 
spectable his  line  of  life  may  be,  and  no  matter  how  garnished  and 
brilliant  his  sin  may  be,  can  afford  to  sin  against  his  own  soul,  as 
every  man  does  who  sins  against  God. 

And  now,  I  exhort  you — you  that  have  ciphered  on  one  side — to 
cipher  on  the  other.  You  have  counted  the  cost  of  getting  religion  : 
go  home  and  count  the  cost  on  the  other  side.  Consider  how  much 
it  would  cost  not  to  have  religion.  Consider  what  would  be  the  con- 
sequence of  being  godless,  heavenless,  homeless.  Can  you  afford,  any 
of  you,  to  rise  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt  in  that  hour  when 
the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs 
and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads  ? 


PRAYER  .BEFORE    THE    SERMO^\ 

We  rejoice,  0  Lord!  that  tliou  hast  broken  the  bands  and  the  bars  of  our 
captivity.  We  are  no  lono^er  grovelinp:  slaves  to  tlie  fiesli.  We  are  no  longer 
needful  servants  of  this  world.  Thou  hast  looked  upon  us.  Thou  hast  beheld  in 
our  souls  the  germs  of  life.  "Thou  hast  called  them  forth.  We  have  heard  thy 
voice.  We  have  felt  thy  power.  We  have  been,  by  thy  great  goodness,  and  by  thy 
great  power,  already  adv^anced  on  the  way  toward  thee.  We.are  as  little  children  yet. 
We  do  not  understand  the  greatness  of  thy  nature.  Nor  hast  thou  made  known 
to  us  what  is  the  mystery  of  the  way  in  which  thou  art  working  ;  but  thou  hast 
made  known  to  us  thy  name,  which  is  Love.  Thou  hast  made  us  feel  the  drawings 
of  it.  Thou  hast  ordained  the  household,  in  which,  in  purity  and  in  love,  our  own 
life  unfolded.  Thou  hast  given  us  to  stand,  first,  in  the  place  of  children,  looking 
up  ;  then,  of  fathers,  looking  down,  governing  and  governed.  We  have  learned 
the  truths  of  both  relations.  And  thou  hast,  against  all  this  blessed  experience, 
unfolded  to  us  the  nature  of  thine  own  government.  Thou  art  Father  ;  and  here 
is  thy  power,  and  this  is  thine  administration.  And  all  the  rounds  of  time,  and 
all  realms,  shall  yet  be  brought  to  know  and  to  feel  the  sa\ing  truth  of  thy  love. 
We  rejoice  that  pride,  that  selfishness,  shall  not  forever  mar,  or  mist,  the  truth. 
We  rejoice  that  the  power  of  the  flesh  shall  not  dominate  the  reason  for  evermore  ; 
that  men  yet  shall  rise  higher  than  their  animal  life,  and  shall  come  into  sympathy 
with  thee.  Thou  wilt,  by  the  administration  of  pain  and  penalty,  as  well  as  by 
mercy  and  pleasure,  educate  thy  creatures  ;  and  thou  wilt  still  unfold  more  and 
more  to  them  thyself  as  they  are  unfolded  in  themselves  like  unto  thee.  And  so 
thou  art  teaching  us  what  is  right  and  trae  ;  and  in  the  experience  of  that  which 
is  right  and  true,  we  find  the  evidences  and  the  proofs  of  thine  existence  and  of 
thy  nature.  The  pure  in  heart  begin  to  see  God.  We  rejoice,  though  our 
glimpses  are  bat  faint,  though  we  are  dull,  and  though  we  are  fragmentary. 
Something  we  have  beheld  of  thine  excellent  glory ;  and  we,  too,  have  longed  to 
abide  upon  the  mountain's  top.  We  have  longed  to  leave  the  strifes  and  the  bewil- 
derments of  sin  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Yea,  selfishly  we  have  been  willing 
to  seek  our  purity,  while  the  great  world  went  groaning  on  below,  possessed  of 
demons.  We  rejoice  that  thou  hast  not  permitted  us  thus  to  seek  self-indulgent 
piety,  but  hast  sent  us  back  again  to  our  duties  ;  to  our  life,  with  its  burdens  and 
its  cares  ;  to  our  missions  of  love,  and  of  mercy,  and  of  instruction. 

And  now,  we  desire  to  wait  patiently  for  the  day  of  thy  perfect  disclosure.     To 


90  COUNTING    THE    COST. 

see  tliee  as  thou  art  is  the  bef^inning  of  heaven.  We  do  not  desire  to  anticipate , 
but  by  faith  discerning  now,  we  wait  for  the  more  perfect  revelation  when  we  shall 
have  been  brought  home,  and  all  our  earthly  experience  is  over. 

Vouchsafe  that  communion  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  inspiration  of  thine  own 
truth.  Vouchsafe  thy  presence  both  in  providence  and  in  grace  from  day  to  day^ 
that  every  one  of  us  may  fulfill  his  duty,  bear  his  appointed  burden,  bear  well  the 
yoke,  carry  forward  the  work  of  God  committed  to  him  in  the  household  and  in 
affairs  round  about  him.  May  we  labor  in  the  world,  not  for  sustenance  alone. 
May  we  labor  not  for  the  things  which  perish.  But,  in  achieving  these,  may  we 
labor  for  virtue,  and  f(3r  truth,  and  for  fidelity  ;  for  duty,  and  for  service  one  toward 
another.  So  may  we  live,  laboring  in  our  several  callings,  that  every  one  of  them 
shall  be  to  us  an  instrument  of  grace.  And  we  pray  that  we  may  not  ask  to  lay 
down  our  tasks,  or  to  abljreviate,  or  find  easier  ways  for  them.  May  we  not  ask 
even  that  the  bitter  be  taken  from  the  medicine,  or  the  point  from  the  thorn. 
May  we  rather  ask  that  thy  grace  may  be  sufficient  for  us.  May  we  have  that, 
royalty  of  manhood  by  which  Ave  shall  meet  undaunted  everyday  the  experiences 
of  the  day,  and  go  forward  willingly,  suifering  longer  or  shorter  periods  as  thou, 
in  thine  infinite  love  and  wisdom,  shalt  ordain. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bring  all  in  thy  presence  into  this  fellow- 
ship, this  knowledge,  this  submission  and  obedience  unto  the  Lord  their  God.  Oh ! 
that  the  time  past  may  be  sufficient  in  which  every  one  has  wrought  the  will  of  the 
flesh.  May  there  be  a  heart  given  to  thy  servants  to  labor  and  to  pray  ;  and  by 
their  example,  and  by  their  sympathy,  and  by  their  inspiration  and  fidelity,  may 
there  be  many  souls  rescued  from  the  infatuation  of  sin,  from  its  blindings,  and 
from  all  its  dangers.  We  thank  thee  that  there  are  so  many  who  are  turning 
their  face  toward  the  cross.  We  thank  thee  that  there  are  so  many  on  whose 
countenance  rests  the  light  of  the  coming  glory.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou 
wilt  multiply  their  numbers.  And  grant  that  all  this  band  who  are  beginning- 
to  walk  and  sing  the  songs  of  Zion  may  have  guardian  angels  round  about  them 
in  multitudes  ;  that  against  them  no  weapons  shall  be  formed  that  shall  prosper. 
And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  there  may  be  more  and  more  added  to  this  church  of 
such  as  shall  be  saved.  Give  again  to  thy  servants  their  children.  Given  once  in 
birth  natural,  give  them  to  their  parents  in  spiritual  birth.  Join  together  in  love 
those  that  have  loved  before,  but  now  in  a  higher  affi-ction  and  in  a  nobler 
trance.  Give  again  friend  to  friend,  but  with  new  compact  and  higher  thought 
and  fidelity.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  quicken  the  conscience,  and 
clear  the  understanding  and  reason  of  evei-y  one,  that,  with  all  their  heart  and 
soul  and  mind  and  strength,  they  may  serve  the  Lord  their  God. 

Bless  not  only  this  chiarch,  but  all  the  churches  that  are  this  day  assembled.  Cor- 
rect any  that  are  in  error.  Give  greater  disclosures  of  truth  to  those  that  are  but 
partially  true.  Grant  that  thy  people  may  not  seek  how  far  they  may  make  the 
division  between  one  another,  but  rather  may  they  draw  together  and  unite  in 
the  things  in  which  Lhey  agree.  And  so  may  the  garments  of  Christ  again  become 
seaniless. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thy  kingdom  may  come  in  all  the  world,  and  that 
everywhere  the  whole  earth  may  be  filled  with  thy  glory. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMON. 

Grakt  thy  blessing  to  rest.  Our  Father,  upon  the  wora  which  we  have  spoken. 
Do  thou,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  send  it  home  upon  the  heart  and  upon  the  conscience. 
Open  the  way  out  from  fear  and  doubt  to  any  that  are  unwilling  captives.  En- 
courage the  desponding.  Give  stability  to  the  wavering.  Draw,  by  thine  own 
blessed  power,  those  that  should  know  thee.  Bring  back  those  that  have  known 
thee.  With  repentance  and  renewed  purpose  may  they  begin  again  to  serve  the 
Lord  their  God.  May  we  all  of  us  live  in  the  commnnion  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and 
in  the  company  and  companionship  of  Jesus  Christ,  until  the  heavens  shall  break 
and  the  dawn  shall  come,  and,  with  the  shattering  of  the  body,  the  soul  shall  go 
forth  in  its  immortality. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.     Amen. 


YI. 


Scope  and  Function  of  a  Christian  Life. 


Scope  and  Function  of  a  Christun  Life. 


SUNDAY  MORNING,  APRIL  18,  1869. 


"  Put  on  the  wliole  armor  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  stand  against  the 
wiles  of  the  devil.  For  we  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  prin- 
cipalities, against  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  against 
spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.  Wherefore  take  unto  you  the  whole  armor 
of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to 
Btand.  Stand,  therefore,  having  your  loins  girt  about  with  truth,  and  having  on 
the  breast-plate  of  righteousness  ;  and  your  feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the 
gospel  of  peace ;  above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able 
to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.  And  take  the  helmet  of  salvation, 
and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God :  praying  always,  with  all 
prayer  and  supplication  in  the  Spirit,  and  watching  thereunto  with  all  perseverance 
and  supplication  for  all  saints." — Eph.  vi.  11-18. 


I  NEED  not  say  what  the  source  of  this  figure  is — a  figure  of  war. 
After  all,  there  is  something  in  a  soldier,  and  in  his  career,  that  at- 
tracts the  admiration  of  those  that  hate  war,  and  who,  looking  at  it 
in  its  details,  abhor  its  phenomena.  The  reason  is  worthy  of  sjjecula- 
tion.  Partly,  I  suppose,  we  admire  war  because  it  is  the  grandest 
organization  of  material  forces  that  ever  human  genius  executed.  It  is 
also  a  force  that  appeals  to  a  very  strong  animal  impulse  in  ourselves. 
We  understand  the  conflict  of  material  forces.  There  is,  however, 
another  and  a  better  reason,  I  think.  However  frivolous  the  world 
may  be,  and  however  insincere,  it  never  fails  to  admire  an  earnest 
man — a  man  who  believes,  and  who  is  willing  to  put  his  life  at  risk 
for  the  sake  of  his  faith.  A  man  who  once  embraces  a  cause,  and 
then  puts  every  thing  that  makes  him  into  that  cause,  is  admirable. 
And  nowhere  else  is  it  done  as  it  is  on  the  field  of  battle.  Nowhere 
else,  when  a  man  has  once  joined  a  side,  does  he  put  up  such  stakes, 
evincing  earnestness  and  intensity  of  his  inward  sincerity,  as  in  the 
hour  of  battle.  The  consequence  is,  that,  stripped  of  all  the  vices 
that  belong  to  the  camp,  and  all  the  weaknesses  Avhich  yet  cling  to 
warriors,  there  has  risen  up  to  the  mind  of  men  a  conception  of  man- 
hood that  is  represented  by  the  true  warrior,  which  is  quite  above 
the  level  of  ordinary  trifling,  woj-ldly  men.  Still  we  admire  the  war- 
rior, although  we  hate   war.      And  upon  this,  doubtless,  Scripture 

Lessobt:  Matt.  v.  1-16.    Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  102,  705,  6.33. 


92        BGOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF  A    CHRIBTIAN  LIFE. 

proce^d^i  in  emjjloying  warlike  figures,  that  incline  men  to  war. 
Since  it  is  in  the  world,  and  is  a  viniversally  recognized  experience, 
the  TUvine  Teacher  employs  it  in  its  nobler  aspects,  for  the  sake  of 
ins;^;;:ing  men  with  a  higher  quality  of  that  very  heroism  which  the 
warrior  is  supposed  to  possess. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  the  scope  and  the  function  of  a  Christian 
I  life.  You  will  observe  that,  as  here  represented,  a  Christian  life  is 
,;  not  the  inheritance  of  a  quiet  possession.     We  enter  upon  a  cam- 

I  paign.  We  enter  upon  a  tremendous  conflict.  You  will  take  notice, 
j.also,  that  this  is  a  conflict  which  is  to  be  waged,  not  by  j^hysical 

I I  arms.  "We  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood  " — the  meaning  of 
f '  which  is,  that  it  is  not  a  physical  quality — "  but  against  principalities, 
:  and  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places  " — the  very  highest  places  in 

human  governments.  We  war  not,  therefore,  by  sword,  or  by  spear  ; 
but  we  put  on  the  armor  of  God — reason,  conscience,  purity,  coui-age, 
and  f'lith.  And  these  qualities,  not  as  they  are  developed  under  the 
inspi'-ation  of  ordinary  human  life,  but  as  they  are  derived  from  the 

t  Spit'.t  of  God  itself — these  are  the  weapons  with  which  we  enter  into 
the  war.  And  it  is,  as  I  understand  it,  the  comprehensive  teaching 
here — or  the  recognition,  if  not  the  special  teaching — that  when  we 
become  Christians,  we  enter  upon  that  great,  world-wide,  time-long 
battle,  in  which  the  moral  sentiments  of  the  race  are  arrayed  against 
the  passions.  And  the  question  is,  Who  shall  control  tlie  vast 
machinery  of  this  world  ?  Shall  it  be  controlled  by  appetites,  by 
avarice,  by  selfishness  in  its  varied  forms?  Or  shall  the  vast 
machineries  of  the  world  be  inspired  and  controlled  by  men's  higher 
reason,  and  their  moral  sentiments  ?     That  is  the  real  battle,  in  the 

i  most  comprehensive  statement  of  it. 

And  we  have  entered  into  that  conflict  just  so  soon  as  we  have 

I  entered  into  the  service  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     This  whole  Avorld 
is  to  be  reorganized.      The  apostle  says,  in  one  place,  "  That  Avhich 
was  the  Spirit  is  not  first,  but  that  which  was  the  flesh."     This  is 
absolutely  and  literally  true.     This  world  came  into  the  hands,  first, 
of  the  flesh,  or  men  as  animal  creatures.    The  first  organizing  impul- 
i  ses  and  influences,  as  they  proceeded  from  the  himian  mind,  were  the 
\  lowest.     Hunger  is  said  to  be  the  first  influence  that  develops  human 
'  life  and  character;  and  the  race  Avas  developed  by  its  appetites  first. 
■   They  inspired  industry;  they  insj^ired  forecast;  and  then,  as  these 
\    qualities  were  insj^ired  in  multitudes,  and  the  diflferent  rights  of  men 
I    and  communities  came  into  conflict,  there  began  to  be  inspired  from 
a    these  basilar  forces  the  light  of  the  fact,  that  some  consideration  of 
1    one  for  another  was  necessary  to  a  wise  selfishness.     And  so  there 
began  to  be,  among  the  barbaric  races  of  the  world,  the  germination 
of  these  moral  influences  and  forces.    But,  comprehensively  regarded, 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF  A    CHRISTIAN    LIFE.  03 

individual  character  pivoted  first  on  the  lower  instincts.  The  house- 
hold Avas  organized  round  about  these  instincts.  Society,  ■\vliicli 
was  but  the  expansion  of  the  family,  was  organized  around  the  law 
.of  force  ;  the  law  of  selfishness.  And  after  the  world  had  developed 
in  2)opulation,  and  governments  had  spread  coequal  with  the  tribes 
of  the  earth,  it  was  found,  not  that  the  world  was  not  organized,  but 
that  it  was  an  organization  which  clustered  round  about  the  great 
passional  forces  of  the  human  soul. 

Now,  there' is  to  come  a  time  when  these  passional  forces  shall  be 
expelled  from  the  organisms  of  society,  and  their  plq,ce  shall  be  taken 
by  pure  moral  sentiments.  So  that  the  laws,  the  maxims,  the  policies, 
and  the  i:)rocedures  in  detail  of  men  in  their  individual  character, 
in  their  social  relations,  in  their  industrial  pursuits,  in  their  civil  po- 
lities, in  their  governments,  and  in  the  relation  of  one  government 
to  another  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  are  all  yet  to  proceed 
from  the  inspiration  and  control  of  man's  moral  and  spiritual  nature, 
as  distinguished  from  his  present  selfish  and  passional  nature.  If  we 
take  a  small  instance,  we  can  rise  perhaps  more  easily  from  that  as  an 
illustration  to  a  higher  conception  of  this  larger  truth. 

A  man  in  entering  upon  business — upon  the  prosecution  of  mer- 
chandise, for  instance — may  say  to  himself,  "  This  is  a  selfish  world, 
and  he  that  does  not  tak-e  care  of  himself  will  not  be  taken  care  of. 
As  for  me,  I  am  bound  to  be  made  independent  by  riches  ;  and  I  will 
enter  into  this  business  to  make  money  ;  and  nobody  shall  hinder  me. 
Just  as  far  as  I  must,  for  my  .own  safety,  I  will  be  just,  and  not  a  whit   f 
further.     Every  edge  shall  cut,  and  every  interest  shall  be  to  make  / 
money.     If  other  people  do  not  make  it,  that  is  their  business.    I  am  / 
not  going  to  stop  for  sentiment  or  generosity.    I  am  determined  that  I 
I  will  make  money."    Supreme,  lordly  selfishness  is  in  him.    He  rises  I 
early  and  sits  up  late.     He  never  loses  an  opportunity.     Tears  are  to  I 
him  but  wasteful,  sentimental  brine.     He  thinks  nothing  of  the  rightsf 
of  others,  nothing  of  kindness,  nothing  of  generosity,  except  tliat  it  is 
a  pickjjocket  of  his  prosperity.     His  supreme  business  is,  night  and 
day,  on  every  side,  to  pursue  his  own  selfish  interests.     There  is  a 
business  oi'ganized   on   selfisliness.     That  is  the  animatins:  centre 
that  is  the  controlling  influence  and  spirit 

By  the  side  of  him  is  a  man,  equally  capable,  who  says,  "  I,  too, 
will  enter  upon  a  business  life ;  but  I  believe  that  kindness  is  more 
profitable  in  commerce  than  unkindness.      I  believe  that  generosity 
is  an  element  of  thrift.     I  believe  that  a  wise  consideration  of  other  j  / 
men's  rights  is  the  best  way  to  secure  my  own."  -^ 

One  man  says,  then,  on  one  side,  "  Business  organized  on  princi- 
ples of  supreme  selfishness  is  the  best  business  ;"  and  the  other  man 
says,  "No ;  I  contend  that  business  organized  on  principles  of  justice, 


4 


=1 


94        SCOPE  A^s'D    FUNCTION  OF  A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

ti'uth,  purity,  and  kindness  is  better  organized,  and  better  adapted  to 
make  money,  better  adaj^ted  to  keep  money,  better  adapted  to  use 
money,  better  adapted  to  extract  happiness  from  the  money  that  you 
get  and  use." 

Here  are  the  two  organizations  of  business — or,  you  might  say, 
the  one  organization,  founded,  on  the  one  side,  on  selfish  passions  and 
influenced,  and,  on  the  other  side,  founded  on  the  predominance  and 
control  of  the  moral  sentiments  in  men.  I  hold  that  the  world  has 
been  organized,  in  all  its  parts,  chiefly  and  mainly  just  as  that  first 
man's  business  is, organized,  on  the  law  of  selfishness. 

Now,  it  is  the  mission  of  Christianity  to  cast  out  selfishness,  first 
from  the  individual  heart,  then  from  the  fimily,  then  from  each 
department  of  business;  and  in  the  place  of  selfishness  to  enthrone,  in 
the  heart,  in  social  life,  and  in  every  department  of  business,  the  law 
of  right,  the  law  of  kindness,  the  law  of  Oliristian  benevolence,  which 
is  represented  by  the  injunction,  "  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  It 
may  be  impossible  as  yet,  for  an  individual  in  society  to  thrive  and 
prosper  by  loving  his  neighbor  just  as  he  does  himself;  but  the  human 
race  will  never  reach  its  maximum,  and  blossom,  and  bring  forth  its 
final  fruit,  until  society  has  so  far  been  brought  under  the  influence  of 
the  great  law  of  Christian  love,  that  society,  and  therefore  its  indivi- 
duals, do  act  upon  the  i^rinciple  of  loving  one's  neighbor  as  we  love 
ourselves. 

This  is  the  work  that  is  going  on,  and  that  is  to  go  on. 

It  is  the  aim  of  Christianity,  then,  to  reorganize  the  globe,  and  to 
deduce  laws,  maxims,  policies  and  principles  from  the  moral  senti- 
ments. In  other  words,  it  will  yet  be  shown  that  every  element  of 
human  life,  individual,  social,  and  civil,  can  be  better  pursued  by  the 
inspiration  of  religious  feeling,  than  by  the  insjjii'ation  of  sordid, 
secular  feeling.  Truth  will  be  proved  to  be  better  than  deceit, 
always,  and  in  all  circumstances.  Honor  will  be  proved  to  be  better 
than  infidelity  to  obligations,  and  always.  The  time  will  come  when 
lies  will  be  known  to  be  like  counterfeit  bills  that  have  been  stamped 
on  their  face  "  counterfeit,"  and  nobody  will  take  them.  Tlie  time 
will  come  when  a  want  of  honor  in  obligations  will  be  known  to  be 
so  base,  so  worthless,  that  a  man  might  as  well  attempt  to  pass 
pewter  dollars  as  to  pass  such  things  in  life.  "We  have  not  quite  yet 
arrived  at  that  time,  but  Ave  are  on  the  way  toward  it.  The  time 
is  coming  Avhen  it  will  be  universally  believed  that  generosity  is 
wiser,  even  in  a  business  point  of  view,  than  stinginess.  There  is 
that  gathereth  and  cloth  not  increase  ;  and  there  is  that  scattereth  and 
yet  increaseth  one's  abundance.  "It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive" — that  is,  commercially  it  is  more  blessed ;  it  is  more  profitable. 
It  is  more  blessed,  too,  in  the  sense  of  being  joyful,  to  give. 


SCOPE  AND    FUNCTION   OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  95 

A  man,  organizing  liis  business  on  the  principle  of  Christian  be- 
nevolence is  a  better  merchant,  to  say  nothing  about  his  being  a  better 
man.     The  time  for  that  has  not  arrived,  either ;  but  it  is  coming. 
Men  still  believe  that  a  certain  degree  of  modified  stinginess  is  good 
policy.      Men  still  believe  that  men  must  look  out  for  themselves,  or  | 
nobody  will  look  out  for  them  ;  and  that  if  other  people  get  in  their/ 
way,  they  must  take  the  consequences.    Men  conduct  business  just  as  a  I 
locomotive  makes  journeys.     It  is  an  immense  iron  machine,  going  atj 
a  terrific  rate ;  and  if  any  thing  gets  on  the  track,  it  is  its  look  out, 
and  not  the  locomotive's.     And  so  men  seem  to  think  that  business 
is  business,  and  that  they  are  iron  machines,  going  at  a  terrific  rate , 
and  if  any  thing  comes  in  their  way,  they  say,  "  Split  it  to  pieces — | 
knock  it  ofli"  from  the  track  ;  do  not  stop  ;  it  is  only  a  man  !" 

But  the  day  is  coming  when  it  will  be  believed  that  benevolence  is 
better,  commercially,  than  selfishness  can  be  ;  better  in  the  store  ;  bet- 
ter, comjDrehensively,  in  any  department  of  business  ;  better  in  any  de- 
partment of  society  :  better  in  any  industrial  or  commercial  pursuit ; 
better  in  national  policy.  The  day  is  coming  when  it  will  be  believed 
that  trust  is  better  than  suspicion ;  when  it  will  be  believed  that 
straightforward  honesty  in  diplomacy  is  better  than  craft ;  when  it 
will  be  believed  that  purity,  in  every  view,  is  nobler,  and  far  more 
l^rofitable,  than  lust.  In  other  words,  the  day  is  coming  when  men  ij 
will  find  that  the  economic  value  of  their  moral  sentiments  is  greater  I 
than  the  economic  value  of  their  passions,  and  that  they  serve  them 
better.  It  will  be  only  the  fulfillment  of  the  declaration,  that  "  God- 
liness is  profitable  to  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that 
now  is,  as  well  as  that  which  is  to  come."  The  day  is  coming  when 
God,  the  supernal  good,  who  organized  the  world  that  it  might  serve 
him  in  virtue  and  true  piety,  will  make  it  appear  to  all  the  earth  and 
to  all  the  universe,  that  he  is  on  the  side  of  rectitude,  on  the  side  of 
purity,  and  that  providence  and  natural  law,  and,  just  as  much,  nation- 
al law,  and  social  and  commercial  law,  and  industrial  law.  are  on  the 
Bide  of  the  inoral  sentiments,  and  not  on  the  side  of  the  passions  and 
the  appetites. 

There  is  now  a  supreme  incredulity  in  this.  Though,  jjracti- 
cally,  men  do  not,  perhaps,  reason  uj^on  it,  there  is  an  almost  uni- 
versal impression  that,  while  men  are  in  this  world,  and  performing 
their  duties,  they  must  be  as  brick-makers  are — that  they  must  Avork 
in  dirt ;  and  that,  when  they  have  got  through  working  in  dirt,  then 
they  must  clean  up,  and  go  to  -church.  Men  think,  "  As  long'  as  I 
am  in  the  world,  and  doing  business,  I  must  perform  my  business  ac- 
cording to  the  way  of  the  world  ;  and  then,  when  I  have  got  through 
with  the  necessary  sacrifice  to  the  Avorld,  I  must  wasli  up,  and  go  to 
church,  and  be  a  Christian."     As  if  that  was  something  separate  and 


06         SCOPE  A^D    FITJYCTION  OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

different  from  tlie  life  wliicli  tliey  have  Leen  living  in  the  world! 
Tliere  is  this  universal  feeling ;  and  it  is,  I  need  not  say,  universally 
practiced,  almost. 

The  first  step  in  the  working  plan  of  this  great  campaign  into 

\  which  we  are  called — namely,  of  regenerating,  reforming,  recasting 

f  the  Avorld — is  the  reformation  of  individual  character,  until  the  su- 

j  preme  forces  of  it  shall  be  moral  forces.      There  be   many  persons 

i  who,  having  seen  the  one-sidedness  of  cluirch  government,  deride  the 

1  idea  of  preaching  the  Gospel  for  the  awakening  and  conversion  of 

men.     They  say,  "  Why  do  you  not  reorganize  society  ?      Do  not 

you  see  that  half  the  evils  in  society  come  from  physical  conditions? 

Do  not  you  see  that  if  society  were  more  honorable,  more  just  in  its 

organizations,  a  great  deal  of  that  which  you  call  sin  would  disappear 

of  itself;   that  it  is  but  the  friction  caused  by  the  working  of  the 

machinery  ?" 

But  the  question  comes  back,  "How  are  you  going  to  re- 
organize society  ?  It  is  assumed,  in  the  word  of  God,  that  the  in- 
dispensable condition  of  any  reformation  in  the  organization  of  soci- 
ety is  to  proceed  upon  the  primary  conversion  of  the  individual  heart. 
Therefore  it  is  that  the  Gospel,  when  it  declares  that  "  the  field  is  the 
world,"  and  Avhen  it  undertakes  the  conversion  of  the  world,  so  that 
human  society  shall  act  upon  the  highest  conceivable  reason  and  mo- 
ral sentiment  in  its  operations,  says,  "  Preach  the  Gospel  to  every 
creature."  And  it  is  for  this  simple  reason  tjiat  the  force  by  which 
we  are  to  organize  society  is  to  be  the  force  of  the  regenerated  indi- 
vidual. Each  man  is  to  be  bowed  ^down  before  God  in  repentance  of 
his  selfishness.  Each  man,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  to  be 
so  enfranchised  that  he  can  rise,  bjf  n^^w  birth,  into  his  moral  senti- 
ment ■,  and  live  there,  so  that  every  pai't  of  his  nature,  which  belongs 
to  his  animal  organ' zaiion,  shall  be  supremely  controlled  by  the  mo- 
ral sentiments  and  by  the  reason.  When  a  man  lives  in  such  a  Avay 
that  he  derives  the  'chief  influences  of  his  life  from  the  Invisible, 
from  God,  his  reason  and  the  moral  sentiments  are  supreme  in  him, 
according  to  the  declaration  of  Scripture.  When  all  the  anhnal 
forces  of  his  nature  are  under  the  supreme  control  of  the  reason  and 
the  moral  sentiments,  he  is  born  again  ;  he  is  godly.  And  whether 
he  belongs  to  this  creed,  that  creed,  or  the  other  creed,  the  thing  to  be 
sought  in  Christ  Jesus  is  not  a  belief  in  certain  technical  t  rms,  or 
in  certain  measures  as  applied  to  the  divine  nature  :  it  is  tliat  we 
should  c-ome  to  that  same  mental  condition  that  Christ  himself  for- 
ever dwelt  in,  in  which  the  liiglier  sentiments  predominate,  and  the 
lower  sentiments  are  absolutely  below  tliem  and  subordinate  to 
them ;  and  whether  a  man  comes  into  that  state  under  one  influence 
or  anotl.er,  under  one  creed  or  another,  he  is  Christly ;  and  therefore 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF   A   CHRISTIAN  LIFE.       97 

he  is  Christian,  For,  to  be  a  Christian  is  to  have  all  our  dispositions 
controlled  by  our  moral  sentiments,  in  distinction  from  our  selfish  in- 
stincts, our  pride,  and  our  passions. 

This  is  the  first  force,  then,  that  is  to'  be  set  in  motion — namely, 
the  individual  soul  is  to  recognize  its  allegiance  to  God  ;  to  take  its 
direction  from  the  infinite  and  the  invisible ;  to  be  supremely  con- 
trolled by  those  faculties  that  have  communion  with  the  infinite  and 
the  divine.  "Except  a  man  be  born  again"  into  this;  except  a  man 
be  born  so  that  the  divine  in  him  is  stronger  than  the  human  ;  except 
a  man  be  born  so  that  sentiment  is  stronger  than  passion ;  except  a 
man  be  born  so  that  fixith,  and  hope,  and  love  predominate  over 
pride,  and  envy,  and  avarice,  and  selfishness,  "  he  can  not  see  the 
kingdom  of  God." 

This  movement,  when  once  established  in  the  individual  man,  will 
give  him  a  right  to  enroll  himself  as  a  Christian ;  and  the  moment  he 
becomes  a  Christian,  he  has  by  this  eni'ollmeut  become  a  soldier,  and 
has  entered  upon  the  great  campaign  of  which  we  have  been  speak- 
ing, of  transforming  the  world,  first,  by  bringing  others  into  the  same 
individual  condition  that  he  has  been  brought  into — by  seeking  their 
conversion,  their  regeneration,  into  a  Christian  life ;  and  next,  by 
carrying  this  supreme  moral  sentiment  into  all  the  organizations  of 
human  life  in  which  he  himself  is  a  part. 

"  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world,"  says  Christ  to  every  man  that 
feels  he  is  a  Christian,  "Ye  ai*e  the  salt  of  the  earth."  You  are 
bound  to  be  felt  both  ways — instructing  men  as  light,  and  preserving 
men  as  salt. 

There  has  been  very  great  weakness,  resulting  from  partialism  of 
this  truth.  One  set  of  men,  seeing  the  evils  of  life,  have  derided  mere 
piety.  "  Seeking  the  salvation  of  the  soul,"  they  say,  "may  be  very 
"vvell  when  a  man  has  nothing  more  to  do  ;  but  if  a  man  wants  to  be 
a  Christian,  let  him  help  the  j^oor  ;  let  him  reform  commerce ;  let  him 
reorganize  society.  If  that  is  done,  half  of  the  evils  that  are  in  our 
way  will  be  taken  out  of  the  Avay."  Right  over  against  these  are 
another  set,  who  say,  "  The  salvation  of  the  soul  is  of  more  impor- 
tance than  all  outward  reformations.  It  may  be  very  well  for  things 
to  be  bettered  in  this  world ;  but  a  man  has  only  a  short  time  to  live, 
and  he  should  make  his  peace  with  God.'^  That  is  the  only  thing 
that  they  think  about.  And  God  says  to  both  of  these  sets  of  men, 
"  Take  this  force  that  you  have  derived,  and  carry  it  out,  so  that  you 
may  breathe  health  into  the  whole."  When  a  man  is  converted  so 
that  his  soul  is  saved,  it  should  be  a  matter  of  profound  gratitude ; 
but  to  rejoice  for  that  only,  and  to  think  of  that  only,  is  to  put  your- 
self on  a  higher  selfishness,  to  be  sure,  but  on  a  selfishness  notwith- 
standing.    You  are  to  be  changed,  and  you  are  to  change  your  fellow- 


/ 


98         SCOPE  AND    FUNCTION  OF   A    CHEISTIAN  LIFE. 

men  ;  but  the  moment  you  believe  tbat  you  are  on  the  side  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  your  duty  lies  in  the  direction  of  the  individual  men 
round  about  you,  and  of  the  business  of  life,  just  as  much ;  because 
3'ou  have  entered  u2:»on  that  great  campaign  which  means  to  recreate 
the  forces  of  the  earth,  and  to  change  the  organizations  of  society, 
and  fill  them  witlTmoral  magnanimities,  and  discharge  from  them  the 
corrosive  selfishness  and  predominant  animalism  which  has  controlled 
them.  Our  battle  is  not  accomplished  in  our  own  salvation.  TVe 
are  God's,  soldiers  to  transform  this  world.  The  mere  technical 
spread  of  the  Gospel  is  itself  a  great  gam  ;  but  it  is  only  the  begin- 
ning of  the  work.  The  GosjDel  is  sj^read,  so  far  as  its  technical  spread 
is  concerned,  into  continents ;  but  the  Gospel  is  to  spread  in  another 
way.  It  is  to  go  down  into  society,  as  well  as  lie  upon  the  surface  of 
it.  As  a  creed,  it  is  to  lie  in  the  disposition,  and  transform  the  pro- 
cesses of  it.  And  the  very  first  stej)  that  a  man  takes  when  he  becomes 
a  Christian,  after  the  regeneration  of  his  heart,  is  to  carry  those 
reo-enerating  forces  straight  along  with  him.  Wherever  he  goes, 
that  light  is  to  shine  ;  and  it  is  to  shine  on  business  ;  to  shine  on  love ; 
on  pleasure  ;  on  wealth  ;  on  honors  ;  on  eveiy  thing.  Wherever  he 
goes,  he  is  to  carry  the  transfoniiing  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  so 
that  he  shall  do  his  part  as  one  of  tlie  soldiers  of  the  Lord's  host. 

This  is  the  larger  view  of  Christianity,  as  opposed  to  the  narrower 
view  of  the  church  and  the  sects.  There  are  many  who  have  almost 
identified  Christianity  with  dogmatic  theology.  Dogmatic  theology 
is  theology  reduced  to  a  philosophical  statement  in  any  age ;  and  of 
course  it  will  change  in  every  age  in  which  mental  philosophy 
changes.  Dogmatic  theology,  because  it  has  been  opposed,  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  abandoned.  Dogmatic  theology  is  to  be  used.  You 
can  not  throw  it  out  of  the  world.  As  long  as  men  reason,  they  will 
insist  upon  finding  out-the  reason  of  religious  life,  and  study  it  in  the 
relations  of  cause  and  effect,  systematizing  it.  You  -can  not  prevent 
it,  and  you  ought  not  to  try.  But  after  all,  dogmatic  theology  does 
not  express  the  whole  of  Christianity,  and  never  did,  and  never  will. 
I  believe  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  Christianity  inherited  ;  but  there 
is  a  great  deal  more  that  is  not  inherited.  I  believe  in  Edwards,  in 
Dwight,  in  Calvin,  in  old  John  Knox,  in  Arminius,  in  all  the  fathers 
of  thought  and  of  theology.  I  believe  there  is  much  of  Christianity 
that  they,  according  to  the  best  light  they  had,  promulgated,  which 
had  an  immense  amount  of  truth  in  it ;  but  the  essential  work  of 
Christianity,  and  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  is  vastly  larger  than  their 
dogmatic  statement  of  theology,  or  of  truth.  So  sectarian  organiza- 
tions, but  for  their  thorns  and  prickles,  are  all  of  them  wise.  I  be- 
lieve in  the  organization  of  Cliristians  into  churches ;  as  I  believe  in 
the  forming  of  churches,  by  elective  afiinities,  into  sects.     I  do  not 


SCOPE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  99 

gee  any  harm  in  denominations.  I  would  just  as  soon  see  twenty 
more  as  twenty  less.  I  should  not  care  if  sects  were  multiplied  until 
every  household  was,  in  some  sense,  a  Christian  church,  maintaining 
its  own  personality,  and  individuality,  and  se23arateness,  and  distinct- 
ness from  every  other  one. 

But  sects  are  not  Christianity.  They  do  not  represent  the  whole 
of  it.  This  church  does  not  represent  the  whole  of  Christianity.  I 
know  that  perfectly  Avell.  Nor  does  the  Episcopal  Church.  It  repre- 
sents some  elements  in  Christianity  better  than  we  do,;  and  some 
elements  not  so  well.  And  the  Methodist  Church  represents  some 
parts  of  Christianity  better  than  any  otl^er  denomination.  And  the 
Presbyterian  Church — there  are  many  things  that  the  world  would 
miss  if  that  church  were  to  sink  out  of  view.  All  of  them  are  joined 
in  certain  great  elements  of  truth.  And  then,  the  specialties  which 
distinguish  one  from  another  usually  are  specialties  that  have  in  them 
a  truth  which  is  nowhere  else  developed  with  such  breadth  and  force. 
And  while  each  has  a  common  stock  of  Christianity,  which  unites  and 
affiliates  it  to  all  other  denominations,  for  a  sjDCcial  work  it  is  better 
than  any  other  denomination.  And  Christianity  is  represented  by 
the  sum  of  all  the  sects,  and  not  by  any  one  of  them. 

Are  not  some  of  them  nearer  to  Christ  than  others?  Very  likely 
they  may  be.  But  it  is  not  for  any  sect  to  say  that  it  is  the  one.  It 
is  right  to  believe  it ;  but  if  it  is  believed,  it  should  be  believed  with 
all  modesty.  It  should  be  believed  without  positive  certainty.  But 
I  think  it  better  to  take  the  larger  view,  and  look  uj^on  the  church 
of  Christ  on  earth  as  a  comprehensive  whole,  represented  by  all  the 
organized  churches. 

I  go  fui'ther  than  that.  "When  you  have  taken  that  hoary  old 
sect,  the  Greek  Church  ;  when  you  have  taken  the  next  sect,  the 
Roman  Church ;  and  then,  when  you  have  taken  the  other  sects  in  the 
Protestant  Church ;  nnd  when  you  have  agglomerated  them  all,  if  you 
say,  "  Do  they  altogether  express  the  whole  of  Christianity  ?"  I 
say,  No.  God  is  working  by  other  instruments  than  these.  The 
church  of  God  is  not  merely  composed  of  ecclesiastical  organizations, 
which  men  call  churches.  He  works  by  the  whole  concourse  of  na- 
ture. All  laAvs  that  rule  the  heavens,  all  laws  that  rule  the  earth,  and 
all  natural  laws,  or  laws  in  natural  science,  are  God's  instruments  in 
religion.  All  organizations  in  society  that  ward  off  evil,  or  do  good,  / 
are  a  pai't  of  God's  comprehensive  machinery,  by  which  he  is  to  trans- 
form the  world.  All  great  industrial  callings  have  something  in  J^ 
them  that  is  working  toward  the  higher  and  toward  the  better,  if 
they  be  really  civilized,  and  ai'e  under  the  influence  of  Christian 
feelings.  And  when  you  look  for  God's  kingdom,  do  not  look  inside 
of  a  sect,  or  inside  of  an  individual.     What  individual  man  is  large 


100       SCOPE  AN-D   FUNCTION  OF   A    CHRISTIAIT  LIFE. 

enough  to  say,  "  I  epitomize  Christianity"  ?  What  sect  can  say,  "1 
represent  uniA^ersal  Christianity  "  ?  All  of  them  together  can  not  say 
that.  It  takes  the  sum  total  of  all  benign  influences  on  the  globe^ 
running  through  all  generations  and  all  periods  of  time,  to  represent 
the  whole  of  God  Almighty's  work. 

If,  therefore,  you  would  know  the  creed  of  Christianity  in  this 
larger  statement  of  it,  Peter  spake  it,  after  he  had  been  called  to 
Cornelius,  when  he  said,  "In  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  God,  and 
worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted  byhim."  There  is  the  corai^reheu- 
sive  creed.  "Love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart" — there  is 
the  charter — "  and  thy  nei|ghbor  as  thyself"  In  every  nation,  he 
that  does  so  fear  and  love  God,  and  work  righteousness,  whether  he 
be  in  tlie  church  or  out  of  it,  whether  he  understand  theology  or  not, 
whether  he  belong  with  you  or  not,  is  accepted  of  God.  And 
though  he  may  not  join  your  church,  or  be  able  to  go  into  it,  he 
belongs  to  the  church  universal,  and  is  one  of  God's  working  soldiers. 
If  you  would  make  an  inventory  of  the  whole  business  of  religion 
in  the  world,  turn  to  the  4th  chapter  of  Philippians,  and  read  there 
the  8th  verse :  "  Whatsoever  things  are  true" — all  the  things  that 
are  set  down  in  the  Bible  and  in  the  Catechism,  all  the  things  that 
are  set  down  in  good  and  pious  books,  and  then  all  the  things  that 
are  not,  if  they  are  true.  Let  the  age  fermenting,  developing,  bring 
up  a  great  truth  that  never  before  has  been  seen,  and  Christianity 
puts  a  hand  on  its  head  and  says,  "  It  is  mine."  Let  there  come  up  a 
nobler  refinement  than  ever  was  developed  oi  thought  of,  and  you 
can  not  array  that  against  Christianity,  as  something  apart  from  it. 
["  Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honest,  whatso- 
I  ever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things 
[  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report  ;  if  there  be  any  vir- 
tue, and  if  there  be  any  praise,,  think  on  these  things" — ponder  them. 
Whatever  is  beautiful,  whatever  is  pure,  Avhatever  is  noble,  now  and 
hereafter,  in  the  infinite  developments  of  all  coming  times — Christ,  by 
the  power  of  inspiration,  swept  round  about  it  his  hand,,  and,  by  the 
blood-stained  circle,  limited  his  sphere  and  his  dominion  by  nothing 
,   short  of  infinite  excellence ;  and  all  these  things  are  his. 

It  is  to  this  large  conception  of  religion  and  Christianity  that  I 
invite  you — not  to  the  narrowness  and  the  fiery  passions  of  a  sect, 
not  to  the  degrading  notion  of  religion  as  a  mere  personal  insurance 
of  your  own  selves.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's."  The  earth  is  yet 
to  be  I'edeemed  to  holy  uses.  All  men  are  to  be  transformed,  and  all 
society  is  to  be  redeemed.  And  if  you  become  a  child  of  Christ,  and 
a  member  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  first  your  heart  must  be  so  changed 
that  the  moral  elements  shall  predominate  in  you,  and  then  you  must 
carry  out,  so  far  as  in  you  lies,  the  same  victorious  change  in  every 
"direction  of  human  life. 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTIOF   OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE.       101 

In  view  of  this  exposition,  I  remark : 

1.  Men  are  called  by  religion  to  a  personal  reformation,  and  then  i 
to  the  reformation  of  the  whole  world  in  which  they  live.  You  are 
to  carry  Christ's  spirit  into  every  relation  of  life,  and  to  become  a 
witness,  and  a  martyr,  if  need  be,  in  it.  A  little  child,  beginning  to 
love  Clirist,  and  desiring  to  Avitness  for  Christ,  comes  home  to  its  un- 
converted parents,  and  to  brothers  and  sisters  that  are  willful  and 
wayward,  and  seeks  there  to  carry  out  the  law  of  love.  Its  temper, 
quite  infirm,  is  often  lost.  Alas,  tliat  of  all  the  things  that  we  lose, 
nothing  is  found  so  certainly  again  as  our  temper!  The  little  child 
comes  home,  and  its  temper  is  often  disturbed,  often  stirred  up ;  and 
still,  it  means  to  be  a  witness  for  Christ.  And  it  says  in  its  little 
heart,  "  I  do  love  Christ ;  and  I  mean  that  every  thing  I  do  shall 
please  him."  It  has  read,  "  In  honor  preferring  one  another ;"  and  it 
attempts,  in  the  household,  to  prefer  the  happiness  of  its  brothers  and 
sisters.  It  refuses  to  join  in  the  little  deceits  that  belong  to  them. 
It  refuses  to  conceal,  when  questioned,  their  little  peculations.  It 
comes  to  spibeful  grief  in  consequence.  And  the  little  child  is  not 
old  enough  to  know  any  thing  about  the  great  laws  of  society,  and 
the  great  laws  of  nature.  Just  converted,  it  is  undertaking  to  live 
so  that  the  best  part  of  itself  shall  govern  itself;  and  then  it  is 
undertaking  to  live  so  that,  in  its  little  companionships,  the  best  part 
of  it  shall  all  the  time  rule  in  its  conduct. 

Now,  no  child  can  undertake  that,  without  having  the  epitome  of 
the  experience  of  every  Christian  in  the  whole  world.  The  moment 
a  child  begins  to  act  in  this  spirit,  his  brothers  and  sisters  will  try  to 
make  the  child  mad — not  exactly  out  of  spite  ;  but  they  want  to  see 
what  it  will  do.  It  will  be  vexed,  and  its  feelings  will  be  tried,  in  a 
thousand  ways;  but  yet,  the  little  martyr  says  to  itself,  "I  wish  I 
could  do  better ;  and  I  will  do  the  best  I  can."  It  holds  fast  to  its 
purpose,  and  tries  to  love,  and  to  bear  patiently  the  injuries  that  are 
heaj)ed  upon  it.  Ah  sweet  little  child  !  you  are  walking  in  the  ways 
of  the  witnesses  of  Christ.  Small  as  the  sphere  is,  little  as  you  seem 
to  be  doing,  He  who  will  bless  the  soul  that  gives  a  cup  of  cold  water 
to  a  little  child,  certainly  will  not  neglect  to  treasure  up  a  memory 
of  what  that  little  child,  in  its  inexperience,  attempts  to  do,  tliat  it 
may  follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Wherever  this  little  child  goes — 
"  except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,"  attempting 
to  do  the  same  thing,  "  ye  shall  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven"— 
wherever  this  little  child  goes,  it  is  attempting,  first,  to  govern  itself 
and  then,  in  its  intercourse  with  men,  to  act  on  these  principles  of 
higher  moral  sentiment,  higher  moral  truth.  Disdaining  craft,  dis- 
daining lies,  disdaining  all  cruelty  and  selfishness,  putting  all  lower 
elements  under  its  feet,  this  little  child  is  trying  to  be  truer,  purer, 


102         SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION   OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

more  industrious,  more  obliging,  more  faithful  in  every  obligation. 
And  it  epitomizes  the  whole  development  of  adult  life. 

2.  More  particularly  and  minutely,  let  me  address  those  who 
preach  Christianity  from  the  side  of  fastidious  taste,  and  are  in  dan- 
ger of  betraying  the  Master  through  their  imagination,  and  through 
their  love  of  that  whicb  is  fit,  orderly,  and  beautiful.  Religion 
must  not  be  selfish — not  even  if  it  be  the  selfishness  of  the  high- 
lest  quality.  "We  have  no  right  to  be  Christians  simply  on  the  ground 
that  so  we  shall  save  our  souls.  We  shall  save  our  souls  ;  but  to  come 
into  religion  as  a  mere  soul  insurance,  is  selfishness.  We  have  no 
right  to  go  into  religion  merely  because  we  shall  thus  gain  joy.  We 
have  no  right,  certainly,  to  enter  into  a  religious  life  with  this  feeling : 
"  I  am  determined  that  I  will  establish  a  perfect,  symmetrical  man- 
hood in  my  own  self  I  do  not  mean  to  mix  up  with  the  quarrels  of 
the  sects.  I  am  not  going  into  this  coarse  and  vulgar  temperance 
movement.  I  am  not  going  to  engage  in  those  pursuits  which  will 
bring  me  in  contact  with  life  in  its  grosser  forms.  I  am  going  to  let 
the  stream  flow  through  the  kennel,  and  am  going  to  stand  in  the 
palace  of  my  resolve  a  clean  man.  I  mean  to  be  a  pure  man,  and  I 
mean  to  do  what  is  right ;  and  I  will  sj^end  my  life  in  fashioning  my- 
self into  a  perfect  Christian." 

I  imagine  General  Sherman  saying  so  in  his  western  campaign. 
I  imagine  him  putting  on  his  regimentals,  and  saying,  "As  for  going 
through  all  those  dusty  roads,  and  as  to  going  down  among  these 
dirty,  lousy  soldiers,  I  am  going  to  keep  myself  apart.  I  intend  to 
study  all  the  books  of  warfare.  I  intend  to  know  every  thing  that 
ever  was  thought  or  known  on  the  subject  of  military  tactics.  But, 
as  for  going  out  into  the  field,  and  getting  wet,  and  hungry,  and 
tired,  especially  among  these  frowzy  officers,  I  do  not  think  much  of 
that !"  What  would  you  think  of  a  general  whose  thought,  in  a 
campaign,  was  to  take  care  of  himself?  Yet  there  are  a  great  many 
persons  that  do  not  want  to  be  converted  in  a  Methodist  meeting  be- 
cause there  are  common,  plain  folks  there.  They  do  not  want  to  go 
where  common  folks  are.  Bless  their  dear  aristocratic  souls  !  They 
are  going  to  surprise  God  with  the  beauty  of  their  conversion  !  Oh  ! 
they,  black  as  crows,  are  going  to  come  out  now,  pretty  soon,  as 
nightingales,  or  canaries,  and  sing  in  heaven ;  and  God  is  going  to 
say,  "What  is  that!  What  is  thatf^^  Men  and  women  when  con- 
verted are  going  to  be  furbelowed,  clad  in  silk  and  broadcloths !  It 
is  so  comfortable,  you  know,  to  be  converted  under  satin,  perfumed, 
ringed,  wristleted,  jeweled,  and  especially,  belonging  to  the  "  se- 
lect circles  " — the  circles  where  they  are  more  selfish  than  anywhere 
else ;  where  they  use  fastidiousness  and  privilege  as  a  means  of 
makinsr  themselves  meaner  and  narrower  :  as  a  means  of  calking  and 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF   A    CHBISTIAN  LIFE.      103 

stopping  ujD  every  outflow  of  large  sympatliy  tliat  connects  them 
with  the  brotherhood  of  naen.     Polite  folks,  and  fashionable  folks —  i 
that  only  commit  fashionable  sins,  I  suppose — are  going  to  be  con-  \     , 
verted  on  carpets,  and  in  silks  and  white  cambrics,  and  with  beauti-  I  / 
ful  opals  on  their  fingers ;  and  when  they  are  converted,  they  do  not  \ 
mean  to  go  down  to  these  dirty  mission-schogls.     They  do  not  mean  | 
to  meddle  with  temperance  or  anti-slavery.     Nor  are   they  going 
down  into  'the  dirty-  pool  of  politics — oh  !  nq,  not  they  !     What  are 
they  going  to  do  ?     "Well,  they  are  going  to  fly  so  high  that  they  can 
not  see  the  world  any  more.    That  is  to  say,  they  are  going  to  the  top 
of  Mont  Blanc ;  and  they  will  be  blanker  than  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain when  they  get  there  !     Ah  !  how  many  icicles  do  you  think  there' 
will  be  on  the  gate  of  heaven,  or  on  the  eaves  of  the  temple  there  ?;J 
And  yet,  these  folks  that  mean  to  be  so  fine,  so  select,  are  nothingl 
in  the  world  but  icicles,  cold,  selfish,  dead — absolutely  dead  !  { 

The  man  that  enters  into  religion  must  follow  God.  And  what 
thought  He,  when  he  took  the  croTwn,  every  beam  of  which  was 
brighter  than  the  shining  of  a  thousand  suns,  and  laid  it  by? 
What  thought  He  when,  disrobing  himself  of  power,  taste,  and 
faculty,  he  bowed  his  head,  and,  trailing  through  the  sky,  be- 
came a  man,  and  as  a  man  humbled  himself,  and  became  obe- 
dient unto  death — even  the  death  of  the  cross  ?  The  most  odious 
and  reputation-blasting  death  that  man's  ingenuity  had  developed 
— all  this  had  combined  at  the  centre-point  of  the  cross,  as  the 
sign  and  symbol  of  degradation ;  and  that  was  the  death  that 
he  chose,  that  he  might  identify  himself  with  men,  and  not  be 
ashamed  to  call  them  brethren.  Go  doAvn  from  the  king  to  the 
.  poorest  servant  in  the  king's  palace ;  go  down  from  the  servant 
to  the  poorest  underling ;  go  lower  than  the  underling,  down  to  the 
prison,  and  from  the  prison  down  to  the  dungeon  of  the  palace,  and, 
in  the  dungeon,  down  till  you  find  the  man  that  has  been  tlie  longest 
from  the  light,  and  is  the  weakest,  the  poorest,  the  most  filthy,  and  the 
most  forgotten  of  men — go  down  and  say  to  him,  "  I  am  thy  brother : 
thou  and  I  will  never  part."  God,  from  infinite  heights,  plunging 
down  through  ranks  and  gradations,  came  to  the  earth,  and  on  the 
earth  went  down,  down,  down,  until  he  found  the  lowest  and  the 
least  point ;  and  he  said  to  the  groveling  wretch  that  was  there — 
the  slave  of  the  slaves  of  men — "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  be  called  thy 
brother."  And  now  he  has  opened  his  banners,  and  he  has  jireached 
his  Gospel,  and  sent  out  his  disciples  ;  and  let  me  see  that  miserable 
jeweled  cx-eature,  fashionable  and  fastidious,  Avho  says,  "  I  am  going 
to  follow  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  by  cutting  my  acquaintance  with 
the  vulgar  cares  of  the  dirty  world.  I  am  going  to  be  a  select  Chris- 
tian, and  seclude  myself  from  these  things."     Can  you,  and  be  a 


104      SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

follower  of  Christ  ?     R,eligion  means  work.     Religion  means  work  in 

a  dirty  world.     Religion  means  peril ;  blows  given,  but  blows  taken 

^   as  well.     Religion  means  transformation.     The  world  is  to  be  cleaned 

r     by  somebody  ;  and  you  are  not  called  of  God  if  you  are  ashamed  to 

\     scour  and  scrub. 

V  "When,  therefore,  I  call  you  to  a  religious  life,  do  not  suppose  that 
I  do  not  call  you  to  a  life  which  shall  transform  the  imagination,  en- 
rich the  understanding,  cultivate  the  heart,  and  the  conscience,  and 
rectify  your  own  passions.  And  do  not  suppose  that  I  call  you  to 
that  only.  If  you  are  truly  transformed,  and  if  the  spirit  of  Christ 
be  in  you,  you  will  feel  yourself  bound  to  go  out  as  a  light  of  the 
world,  to  carry  forth  y^ur  sentiments,  and  your  nobler  feelings,  as  the 
salt  of  the  earth ;  and  you  will  become  witnesses  for  Christ  everywhere. 
Oh  !  that  there  were  more  witnesses  in  the  household  !  How, 
rio-ht  from  the  orb  of  true  Christian  experience,  if  you  had  the  shield 
of  faith,  would  fall  those  fiery  traits  of  temper ;  those  waspish  and 
venomous  cares  ;  those  ten  thoiisand  unsymmetries  of  affection  ;  all 
this  dullness,  this  forgetfulness,  this  irritableness ;  all  those  things 
which  disfigure  the  individual,  and  interruj^t  and  mar  the  beauty 
of  the  household  ! 

You  are  called,  next  to  personal  holiness,  to  carry  the  reformation 
of  your  faith  into  the  household.  Every  step  that  you  take  in  the 
world,  you  are  bound  to  take  as  a  reformer.  Not  a  single  step  must 
you  take  that  will  traverse  a  moral  principle.  And  if  the  age  has  not 
come,  if  the  time  has  not  yet  arrived,  your  business  is  to  do,  and  to 
suffer,  and  bear  witness  for  that  which  is  right,  true,  pure,  just,  and 
good.  And  the  world  never  wjll  advance  rapidly -until  we  have 
more  martyrs  in  common  things,  more  witnesses  in  common  places. . 
There  never  Avas  a  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  when  there  were 
more  temptations  to  selfishness  than  now.  And  in  our  own  age  and 
community  the  temptations  seem  to  me  to  be  coming  in  like  a  flood. 
We  have  overcome,  in  an  awful  struggle,  temptations  to  arrogance 
and  domination,  but,  right  in  the  place  of  that  terrific  demon,  stands 
now,  looming  up  and  gathei'ing  form,  the  figure  of  Mammon,  threat- 
ening to  be  even  more  dangerous  than  Despotism  was.  And  no  man 
is  called  to  the  Christian  life  who  is  not  likewise  to  see  to  it  that  this 
nation,  and  the  several  governments  of  the  States,  and  all  the  deiaart- 
ments  of  human  society,  are  defended  and  rescued  from  this  terrific 
invasion.  I  know  that  honor  has  gone  down  before  it.  I  know  that 
virtuous  purposes  have  been  melted  as  wax  before  the  fierce  blow- 
pipe. I  know  how  hard  it  is  for  men  to  stand  in  their  integrity  under 
mighty,  beating  temptations.  Nevertheless,  somebody  must  stand 
and  there  must  be  men  that  can  stand,  in  the  midst  of  Babylon,  and 
bear  witness  for  Christ,  or  else  the  field  will  never  be  won. 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF   A'  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.       105 

Young  men,  I  do  not  call  you  to  come  into  this  church  that  I  may- 
cover  over  a  common  life  with  a  varnish  of  piety.     I  exhort  you  most 
earnestly  to  become  Christians,  and  to  join  yourselves  to  the  fellowship 
of  Christians ;  but  what  I  mean  when  I  say  these  things,  is  not  that 
you  shall  have  a  singing  hope  ;  not  that  you  shall  have  an  easy    •—■ 
spiritual  life.     I  call  you  to  enlist  under  the  banners  of  that  army 
which  means  the  re-creation  of  business,  the  re-creation  of  industry, 
the  re-creation  of  commerce,  and  the  re-creation  of  politics.     I  call 
upon  you  to  join  that  host,  that  mean  yet,  one  day,  to  see  truth,  con- 
science, love,  generosity,  honor,  and  purity  taking  complete  control 
of  the  machinery  of  human  life,  casting  out  the  foul  deyil  of  selfish-  ^ 
ness,  casting  out  the  demons  of  pride  and  of  impurity.     I  believe  that     ( 
the  day  is  yet  to  come  when  all  the  machineries  of  society  Avill  be     I 
controlled  by  truth,  by  purity,  by  sublime  duty.      I  call  you  to  be 
soldiers  in  that  great  warfare  that  is  to  bring  to  pass  this  victory. 
It  may  not  be  in  your  day — oh  !  no,  not  in  your  day  ;  nor  in  mine.    I 
shall  die  long,  long  before  the  victory  is  completed.     I  can  not  ask  to 
live  longer.     Twenty  years  ago,  in  my  most  extravagant  mood,  I 
would  not  have  dared  to  say  to  Christ,  "  Let  me  live  to  see  slavery 
destroyed  ;"  and  yet  I  have  lived  to  see  it  destroyed.     And  one  such 
coronation,  one  such  epoch  lived  through,  I  should  be  indeed  most 
unreasonable  to  ask  to   live  through   many   more   great   victories.  r~) 
God  does  not  give  it  to  man  to  see  many  such  victories.      I  shall  die     ( 
before  I  see  commerce  and  industry  fairly  regenerated.     Some  of  you     \ 
will  live  to  see  the  beginnings  of  it.      Children  that  are  here  to-day 
will  see  what  will  have  begun  to  transpire,  \^hen  I  have  slept  for 
years.     But  I  foresee  it.     I  preach  it.     My  word  will  not  die  when 
I   am   dead.     The  doctrine  is  out,   and   you   can  not  put  it  back. 
That  seed  has  sprouted,  and  you   can  not  unsprout  it.     Religion     / 
means  the  transformation  of  the  individual  soul,  as  a  part  of  the    | 
transformation  of  the  race,  and  of  all  the  organizations  of  the  race.     ^ 
It  is  universal.      It  fills  all  space,  and  is  to  fill  all  time  ;  and  it  is  to 
be  worked  for  in  that  spirit ;  and  every  man  is  to  swear,  first  for  him-     / 
self,  and  then  for  his  household,  and  then  for  the  community  in  which     1 
he  lives,  and  then  for  his  nation,  and  then  for  the  nations  of  the  earth,  / 
and  for  the  race  ;  and,  blessed  be  God,  I  have  lived  to  have  a  chance 
to  preach  it.      I  have  lived  to  see  that   snare  broken  which  has  led 
men  to  believe  that  the  pulpit  wRich  was  organized  to  preach  the 
Gospel  must  not  deal  with  the  secular  affairs  of  society  ;    that  the 
pulpit,   whose  field  is  the  world,  should  be  hedged  in  by  narrow 
sectarianism,  hedged  in  by  the  most  penurious  creeds,  hedged  in  by 
half  a  dozen    stock  subjects;    and   that  while    slaves  were  being 
ground  down  by  the  heel  of  oppression,  and  mammon  was  rolling 
her  mighty  car  over  myriads  of  men,  ministers  "  must  preaqh  about 


106       SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION  OF  A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus,"  and  not  go  out  of  their  place.  I  have 
lived  to  see  Sunday  redeemed.  I  have  lived  to  see  that  a 
man  may  pull  an  ox,  or  an  ass,  or  even  a  man  out  of  the 
ditch  on  Sundaj.  I  have  lived  to  see  that  humanity  means 
humanity  ;  that  it  means  justice  for  those  that  can  not  achieve  jus- 
tice for  themselves ;  that  it  means  the  reformation  of  morals ;  that 
it  means  the  reformation  of  commerce,  and  of  political  economy ; 
that  it  means  the  reformation  of  every  thing  that  touches  man  any- 
where. I  have  lived  to  see  that  day,  and  to  help  bring  it  on.  And 
it  is  enough.  As*to  the  victory,  I  shall  see  that,  too  ;  but  ah  !  with 
eyes  better  than  these  that  grow  dim  with  age  ;  with  a  head  no  lon- 
ger touched  with  gray,  but  where,  wearing  the  white  linen  of  the 
saints,  and  bearing  white  flowers  of  the  heavenly  land,  that  never 
wilt,  from  among  the  perfect  company,  I  sliall  look  back,  and,  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  work  of  God  on  earth,  see  the  victory  of  this  truth. 

Young  men !  come  into  this  glorious  work.  Do  not  think  that  reli- 
gion is  a  poor,  miserable,  mystic  experience.  It  is  the  most  glorious  en- 
terprise that  man  was  ever  invited  to  achieve.  I  call  you  to  be  better 
men,  lordlier  in  the  stature  of  your  ambition;  and  I  call  you  to  join 
yourselves  to  God  that  you  may  find  yourselves.  I  call  you  to  enter 
upon  your  business  of  every  kind  with  nobler  aspirations,  with  a  bet- 
ter purpose,  and  to  count  yourselves  Christ's,  and  to  belong  to  that 
army  who  are  laboring  night  and  day,  by  tears,  by  prayers,  by  instru- 
ments of  every  kind,  to  re-create  the  earth,  that  there  may  be  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new^  earth  in  which  shall  dwell  rio;hteousness.  This  is 
worthy  of  yon,  and  it  is  honoring  to  God.  And  yet,  ere  long,  you 
shall  hear — or  some  shall — the  radiant  angel,  flying,  proclaim,  "  The 
kingdoms  of  this  world  have  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  shall  reign !  " 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON. 

0  OTTR  Father  !  reach  forth  thine  arms,  and  take  us  that  have  fallen  to  the  ground, 
up  above  our  weakness,  higher  than  our  own  strength  can  carry  us.  Lift  us  into 
the  sphere  where  thou  dwellest,  that  our  thoughts  may  also  partake  of  the  sonship 
which  we  liave  ;  for  thou  dost  no  longer  call  us  servants,  but  friends.  Blessed 
God,  if  we  are  thy  friends,  show  forth  to_us  this  morning  this  relationship.  May 
we  understand  it  by  the  consciousness  of 'friendship  in  us.  May  we  know  thee  by 
that  which  rises  within  us  to  call  for  thee.  Let  the  echo  of  thy  nature  sound  in 
us.  Let  there  be  something  that  shall  long  to  say,  Father.  May  there  be  that  in 
our  hearts  that  shall  hunger — hunger  for  love  greater  than  that  which  one  man 
can  give  to  another.  We  have  tried  the  world,  and  we  bless  thee  for  it.  There 
are  many  joys  in  it.  There  is  much  in  it  that  makes  us  wish  to  live.  And  all  the 
sweet  friendships  of  life — how  are  they  clothing  us  as  with  a  garment !  And  how 
hast  thou  ordained  praise  in  the  household  and  in  the  individual  heart !  And  how 
hast  thou  caused  the  very  natural  world  round  about  us  to  smile  and  bless  us ' 
And  yet,  who  of  us  is  satisfied'?    What  bounty  ever  left  vis  without  a  yearning 


SCOPE  AND   FUNCTION    OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE.     107 

and  longing  for  something  more  ?  Is  it  tliat  we  have  come  from  heaven,  and 
these  dim  dreams  of  lost  glory  come  back  ?  or  is  it  the  intimation  of  thy  Spirit — 
the  earnest  of  our  inheritance '?  Is  it  not  that  thou  dost,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  strive 
in  us,  making  prayers  for  us  -vvith  groanings  which  can  not  be  uttered,  and  mak- 
ing supplications  in  us  ?  Art  thou  not  drawing  us  toward  thyself  as  the  real  sup- 
ply of  the  soul  ?  Thine  is  love  which  perfects  itself.  Thine  is  a  companionship 
that  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired— that  still  lifts  us,  excites  our  imagination,  and 
more  than  fulfills  every  ideal.  Thine  is  a  companionship  that  never  wearies. 
There  are  no  pauses  in  it.  We  are  never  with  thee  conscious  of  divine  weakness. 
There  are  no  flaws  in  that  perfection  of  nature  which  thou  bringest  to  us.  All 
our  experience  of  life  with  thee  has  been  blessed,  and  our  only  sorrow  has  been 
when  we  have  fallen  from  the  blessedness  of  thine  intercourse. 

Now,  grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  more  of  that  help  by  which  we  may  live  as 
seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.  We  are  glad  to  be  joined  to  thee.  We  are  glad 
that  our  life  flows  with  thy  life.  We  are  glad  that  thou  hast  been  pleased  not 
only  to  call  us  friends  and  children,  but  to  make  us  to  feel  that  we  are  fellow- 
laborers.  We  are  glad  that  we  are  set  to  think  the  things  which  thou  dost  pon- 
der, and  that  we  are  enkindled  with  the  same  affections  wliicli  blaze  in  thee,  and 
that  we  are  working  for  the  same  great  ends,  or  may  work  for  them,  which  con- 
cern thy  soul,  and  that  we  may  move  with  the  magnitude  and  the  grandeur  of 
thy  government,  and  that  we  may  take  part  and  lot  in  all  the  work  of  thine 
hands.  We  pray  that  we  may  enter  into  the  divine  life  ;  that  we  may  find  food 
for  our  souls,  joy  in  our  solitude,  consolation  in  our  bereavements,  light  in  our 
loneliness  and  darkness,  strength  when  we  are  unstable,  and  courage  in  the  hour 
of  fear.  Grant  that  still — in  all  moods,  in  every  necessity,  in  the  soul's  deepest 
and  innermost  want,  though  inarticulate — we  may  find  thee  all  in  all. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  !  in  those  hoijrs,  pulseless,  not  calm 
but  sluggish,  when  we  can  feel  nothing  but  pain  that  we  can  not  heal ;  in  those 
hours  when  we  believe  in  nothing  but  death,  with  a  living  consciousness  to  realize 
the  deadness — we  beseech  of  thee  that  in  those  hours  of  temptation  thou  vnlt 
grant  us  thy  presence.  Say  to  us  that  heav^en  is  real.  Say  to  us  that  thou  art, 
and  that  thou  art  the  rewarder  of  those  that  diligently  seek  thee.  In  those 
hours  when  we  turn  away  from  strife,  when  it  seems  to  us  as  if  the  labor  of  our 
life  were  folly,  when  tlte  tides  of  human  wickedness  sweep  victoriously  on,  and 
all  that  we  can  do  is  feeble  and  helpless,  as  are  the  smitings  of  a  child's  hand  upon 
the  ocean — in  these  hours  of  discouragement,  may  we  be  taught  of  God.  Behold, 
is  not  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  leaven  which  a  woman  hid  in  three  measures  of 
meal  ?  Is  not  the  kingdom  of  God  as  the  smallest  of  all  seeds,  which  straightway 
and  by  and  by  shall  become  a  tree  ?  Grant  that  we  may  live,  not  by  the  measure- 
ment of  our  senses,  nor  by  the  judgments  which  are  framed  by  men  of  the  flesh. 
May  we  draw  our  inspirations  from  the  great  and  infinite  world  beyond.  May 
our  most  substantial  beliefs  and  truths  be  those  that  are  higher  thaji  our  senses. 
May  we  compel  our  senses  to  follow  our  reason.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that 
thou  wilt  give  lordship  in  ug  to  the  soul-powers,  that  conscience,  and  faith,  and 
love,  and  hope  may  predominate  ;  that  pride  and  selfishness,  and  every  malign 
and  evil  feeling,  may  be  reduced  to  subjection  ;  that  the  work  of  God  may  be  es- 
tablished in  us  ;  that  we  may  follow  thee  in  all  obedience,  and  gentleness,  and 
purity,  and  in  all  hopefulness  and  joy  fulness. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  every  one  in  thy  presence,  according  to 
his  circumstances  and  necessity,  the  blessing  of  the  Sabbath.  Give  rest  to  every 
heart.  May  fear  fly  away.  May  doubts  disappear.  As  thou  hast  rolled  away  the 
night,  and  as  no  storm  knows  the  path  by  wluch  to  walk  the  heavens  to-day,  and 
all  is  full  of  radiance  and  of  God,  so  in  every  soul  grant  that  there  may  be  lifted 
up  above  it  the  atmosphere  and  the  arch  of  the  very  heaven.  May  every  one  feel 
the  nearness  of  God  to  him  to-day.  And  as  thou  didst  interpret  thyself  in  the 
garden  to  Mary  in  the  pronouncing  of  her  name,  so  may  every  one  have  his  name 
spoken  of  God  audibly  to  the  soul  to-day,  that  all  the  promises  may  be  joined  to 
each  consciousness — that  every  one  may  feel  that  God  is  his. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant,  in  the  presence  of  thy  light  and  thy 
power,  that  all  those  things  which,  by  inequality  and  misadjustment  in  life,  are 
cares  and  torments,  may  be  as  are  the  hills  from  the  mountain-top  when 
all  things  are  seemingly  level.  May  we  be  lifted  so  high  to-day  that  the 
things  which  aforetime  have  distressed  and  troubled  us  may  trouble  us  no 
more.  If  there  are  any  that  this  morning  remember  their  sorrows,  why  should 
they  not  mount  into  their  joys,  and  sit  enthroned  in  them?    Theirs  thou  art. 


138       SCOPE  AND  FUNCTION  OF   A    CHRISTIAN  LIFE.     ' 

Theirs  tliy  presence  is  througli  life.  They  are  to  triumph  in  dying  ;  they  are  to 
dwell  with  thee  in  the  kingdom  of  thy  Father's  glory  ;  and  why  should  they  go 
mourning  1 

0  Lord  !  we  beseech  of  thee,  if  there  are  those  that  are  in  mourning,  before 
whom  there  is  no  brightness,  have  compassion  on  them.  Look  iTpon  the  woe- 
stricken  who  have  no  future.  Look  upon  those  that  bury  their  dead  as  they  that 
cast  stones  into  the  sea,  that  sink  to  the  bottom  and  come  up  no  more  forever. 
Look  upon  those  to  whom  the  grave  is  not  the  gate  of  heaven,  but  an  abj'ss. 
Lord  Jesus,  hast  thou  no  compassion  upon  those  souls  that  do  not  know  thee,  nor 
love  thee,  nor  know  the  infinite  heaven,  and  the  blessedness  of  the  Saviour  that 
never  died,  though  he  passed  beyond  ?  * 

Reveal  to  all  that  are  mourning  the  consolations  of  the»Holy  Ghost.  Vouch- 
safe to  them  those  teachings  by  which  they  shall  see  the  future,  and  the  blessed- 
ness of  it.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  rebuke  those  in  thy  presence  whose  trou- 
bles come  from  their  follies.  Rebuke  us  all.  While  we  resent  the  rebukes  of 
men,  may  we  IxLimble  ourselves  before  God,  and  ask  for  chastisements,  tliat  our 
pride  may  not  predominate  ;  that  we  may  not  be  carried  captive  in  the  world  ;  that 
we  may  still  feel  how  weak  we  are,  and  how  needful  of  God ;  that  we  may  humble 
ourselves  before  God  ;  that  we  may  repent  of  our  sins — even  of  the  brightest  and 
most  joy-bearing  transgressions  ;  that  we  may  be  as  little  children  corrected  by 
the  father's  hand.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  oi'dain  peace  for  those  who  are 
pure.     Bring  them  into  the  presence  of  God,  that  they  may  see  him. 

Bless  the  mourners,  and  all  that  follow  thee  in  poverty  of  spirit.  Grant,  we 
pray  thee,  that  thy  word  and  thy  work  may  prosper  in  this  congregation,  and  in 
all  thy  churches  in  this  city,  of  every  name.  Unite  thy  people  more  perfectly  to- 
gether. May  they  not  seek  the  things  that  divide,  nor  longer  spend  time  in 
building  division  wall#.  May  they  seek  rather  to  unite  in  the  things  in  which 
they  agree,  and  to  love  one  another,  and  to  give  the  undivided  and  unspent  force 
of  hope  and  love  to  the  work  of  evangelizing  the  world.  Wilt  thou  cause,  O 
Lord  !  that  more  be  raised  up  to  preach  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ's  Gospel; 
and  to  sj^read  abroad  that  Gospel  in  the  destitute  places  of  our  land. 

Bless  schools  and  seminaries  of  learning  ;  and  bless  the  cause  of  intelligence  as 
represented  in  newspapers,  and  tracts,  and  books  for  the  diflfusion  of  useful  know- 
ledge. We  pray  that  intelligence  may  be  associated  with  virtue,  and  that  both 
of  them  may  work  for  piety.  And  may  the  whole  of  this  nation  be  evangelized, 
and  educated  of  God.  Look  abroad  upon  thy  work  everywhere.  W^e  thank  thee 
that  the  times  stir,  that  thou  art  awaking  the  dead,  that  nations  that  have  long 
lain  seemingly  buried  are  coming  to  life.  Command  that  the  napkin  be  taken 
away  from  around  about  their  head,  as  they  come  forth  from  their  sepulchre. 
Command  that  they  may  so  give  light  and  knowledge  to  the  people,  which  shall 
make  them  in  virtue  and  intelligence  so  strong  that  none  shall  be  powerful 
enough  to  hold  them  down.  And  so,  by  the  growth  of  human  souls,  by  the 
growth  of  virtue  and  intelligence,  by  Christian  manhood,  make  men  mightier 
than  man,  so  that  there  shall  be  no  monarch  so  strong  as  his  people  ;  so  that  all 
people  shall  be  able  to  defend  their  rights — their  rights  of  manhood. 

Let  thy  kingdom  come.  Let  thy  will  be  done  in  all  the  world.  Fill  the  world 
with  thy  glory. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE    SERMOIf. 

Our  Father,  wilt  thou  bless  the  word  of  truth  spoken  to  every  heart.  May  we 
not  doubt  thy  truth.  May  we  not  look  out  upon  the  darkness,  and  refuse  to  be- 
lieve in  the  morning.  Because  it  is  storming,  "and  winter  is  on  the  earth,  let  lis 
not  be  faithless  of  the  spring.  Oh  !  grant  that  we  may  believe  that  thou  shalt  yet 
be  the  God  of  all  the  earth,  and  that  every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  con- 
fess that  thou  art  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God.  Hear  our  prayer.  Accept  the  song 
which  we  shall  offer  thee.  Go  with  us  from  our  worship.  Be  with  us  through  the 
day,  through  life,  in  dying,  and  in  living  again  in  thine  heavenly  kingdom ; 
which  we  ask  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen.  • 


VII. 

Human  Ideas  of  God. 


HUMAN    IDEAS    OF    GOD. 

SUNDAY    MORNING,   APRIL    25,   1869. 


"Thy  wiU  be  done." — Matt.  x.  6. 


This  short  sentence,  compassed  by  a  breath,  comes  from  the  lips  of 
child  and  man  as  if  it  were  the  ^easiest  of  all .  utterances,  as  well  as 
the  easiest  of  all  commands.  But  he  who  sails  in  this  sentence  must 
have  a  deep  channel.  Its  keel  reaches  far  below  the  sui-face.  He 
who  can,  in  contemplative  hours,  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done,"  is  happy ; 
but  happier  far  he  who  can  still  repeat  it  in  the  struggling  experien- 
ces of  daily  practical  life.  It  is  implied  in  this  sentence  that  one  has 
such  a  view  of  the  divine  character  as  shall  command  the  soul's  con- 
fidence and  homage.  It  is  impossible  for  one  cheerfully  and  Avillingly, 
having  begun  with  the  opening  sentence,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in 
heaven,"  to  go  on  and  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done,"  except  upon  the 
supposition  that  God's  will  is,  to  the  one  that  utters  it,  the  best,  the 
noblest  consummation. 

If  God  were  what  mythologists  taught  their  deities  to  be  who  wor- 
shiped them,  if  Jehovah's  attributes  were  but  the  transfer  of  men's 
selfish  passions,  then  a  good  man  could  not  say,  "Thy  will  be  done." 
If  we  are  taught  such  notions  of  the  divine  administration  as  con- 
trovert the  fundamental  ideas  of  morality  among  men,  the  funda- 
mental ideas  of  justice,  of  mercy  and  of  goodness,  it  is  quite  in  vain 
to  teach  us  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  A  man  must  be  unti-ue  to 
his  own  moral  convictions,  who  can  say  to  a  God  that  violates  his 
ideas  of  sanctity  and  divine  excellence,  "Reign,  rule."  There  must 
be  presented  to  the  human  soul  a  deity  that  is  better  than  man,  in 
each  and  in  every  respect — so  much  better  that  it  shall  seem  an  in- 
finite and  unspeakable  blessing  that  such  a  God  should  control 
all  things,  and  should  constrain  men  to  become  like  himself. 

Lessok  :  Pea.  xrv.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  23,  683,  551. 


no  HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOD. 

There  are  many  who  rebuke  such  a  use  of  reason  as  this  as  irre- 
verent ;  as  presumptuous ;  as  setting  man's  judgment  above  God's ;  as 
the  result  of  cai-nal  and  unsubdued  hearts.  When  men  find  fault 
with  the  character  of  God  as  it  is  taught  to  them,  sometimes  the 
answer  is,  "It  is  your  unsubdued  and  carnal  nature  that  contests 
God."  "We  are  taught  that  the  natural  heart  is  not  subject  to  the 
law  of  God,  nor  indeed  can  be ;  and  therefore  men  think  that  when 
men  resent  certain  views  of  the  divine  character  and  economy,  it  is 
part  and  parcel  of  their  general  depravity  ;  and  it  may  be.  It  is 
true,  often,  that  it  is.  Men  may,  and  often  do,  refuse  to  accept  God's 
character  and  government  because  their  moral  sense  is  darkened; 
because  they  prefer  darkness  to  light.  But  it  does  not  follow  that 
all  do  so.  That  does  not  determine,  certainly,  the  case  of  earnest, 
conscientious,  and  self-denying  persons,  who  are  rejDelled  by  the 
teachings  of  the  pulpit  concerning  God,  and  who  contest  false 
representations,  as  they  think. 

The  reason  Avas  given  to  man  for  use,  and  not  to  be  hidden  in  a 
napkin  ;  and  if  there  be  any  other  use  so  noble  to  which  it  can  be 
put  as  that  of  searching  out  the  necessary  character  of  the  suj^reme 
being,  I  know  not  what  it  is.  There  is  nothing  that  goes  so  far  to 
determine  the  average  character  of  any  community  as  its  notions 
respecting  God.  There  is  nothing  that  goes  down  into  the  house- 
hold so  far,  nothing  that  determines  questions  of  right  and  wrong 
with  such  critical  tests,  as  our  ideas  of  what  are  the  constituent 
elements  of  morality  inherent  in  the  nature  of  God.  And  what  is 
divine  government  determines  largely  what  is  right  government 
everywhere.  And  in  human  goverments,  the  questions  of  right  and 
wrong,  liberty  or  oppression,  are  derived  very  lai'gely  from  the 
theology  of  the  periods  in  which  men  live.  It  is  true  that  the  re- 
verse operation  is  going  on,  and  that  men's  ideas,  evolved  by  actual 
experience,  form,  first  secretly,  but  afterward  openly  and  more  ap- 
parently, their  notions  of  theology.     There  is  an  action  and  reaction. 

It  may  be  that  we  use  our  reason  wrongly.  Men  may  be  hasty 
in  their  conclusions.  They  may  reason  foolishly.  That  does  not 
touch  the  primary  duty  of  employing  their  reason  to  explore  and 
determine  the  true  nature  of  God. 

For  the  reason  is  to  the  mind  what  the  eye  is  to  the  body.  And 
the  eye,  too,  may  be  used  wrongly.  Men  may  measure  wrongly. 
They  may  judge  wrongly  of  distances,  of  quality,  of  quantity,  and  of 
proportion.  And  yet,  shall  we  say  that  t-he  eye  had  better  be  put 
out  ?  There  stand  many  men  pointing  to  the  great  defects  which 
men  have  shown  in  the  use  of  reason  as  applied  to  religion,  and  say, 
"It  is  not  safe  for  men  to  trust  their  judgment  on  holy  things." 
They  point  to  all  the  long  line  of  mistakes  made  in  respect  to  the  in- 


HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOD.  Ill 

terpretation  of  God,  his  nature  and  government,  and  say,  "The 
reason  ought  to  be  subordinated  to  the  church.  Men  should  not 
hastily  employ  their  individual  reason  on  these  tremendous  interests." 
On  the  same  ground  you  might  say,  "  Men  shall  n(tt  employ  their 
eyes,  either ;"  for  men  make  as  many  mistakes  with  their  eyes  as 
with  their  reason.  Shall  we  have  a  guide,  therefore,  to  go  with 
us  ?  Shall  we  get  some  church  or  corporation  to  appoint  men  that 
have  a  sort  of  prescriptive  right  to  see  for  other  folks,  and  tell  us  not 
to  use  our  eyes  because  we  sometimes  make  mistakes  ?  We  make 
mistakes  with  every  faculty.  The  liability  to  err  in  any  faculty  is  no 
reason  for  suppressing  that  faculty.  Men  had  better  become  idiots. 
Indeed,  when  they  take  that  ground,  they  are  not  far  from  it ! 

The  whole  Bible,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  generous  and  continuous 
appeal  to  reason.  If  this  be  the  "Word  of  God,- we  have  a  right  to 
demand  that  it  shall  be  in  essential* conformity  with  the  constitution 
of  human  nature ;  with  the  constitution  of  the  civil  and  secular 
world.  It  is ;  and  in  nothing  more  than  this — the  generous  and 
continuous  appeal  which  it  makes  to  the  use  of  reason  in  determin- 
ing the  character  of  God.  Men  ai-e  blamed  because  they  worship 
heathen  gods.  Why  ?  ■  Because  their  reason  should  tell  them  better. 
Men  are  blamed  if  the  glory  of  God  does  not  shine  bright  on  them. 
Why  ?  Because  they  will  not  ponder;  because  they  will  not  think. 
Men  ai'e  blamed  for  their  v^ry  vices.  Why?  Because,  as  the  apostle 
declares,  the  Godhead,  even  where  he  is  not  revealed  by  special  rev- 
elation, may  be  known  by  the  things  which  are  made.  His  eternal 
power  and  Godhead — that  is,  nature — speaks  enough  of  God  to 
teach  men  what  are  the  great  elementary  principles  of  a  real  divinity. 
So  that  they  are  without  excuse. 

But  it  is  asked,  "  Shall  an  immortal  creature,  before  he  Avill  say, 
*  Lord,  rule  over  me ;  let  thy  will  be  done,'  presume  to  arraign  God 
before  the  tribunal  of  his  petty  understanding  ?  And  shall  he  review 
his  nature  ?  Is  it  not  better,  more  fitting,  that  he  should  humble 
himself,  and  that  he  should  accept  the  divine  nature  ?" 

This  sounds  very  prettily  in  language ;  but  in  practice  it  is  stupi- 
dity. How  shall  the  divine  nature  be  understood  at  all  except  by  the 
use  of  the  reason  ?  Suppose  a  priest  tells  you  what  is  God's  nature, 
do  not  you  accept  it  at  his  hands  by  using  your  reason  ?  Why  not 
use  it  before,  and  accept  it  at  the  hand  of  revelation,  by  using  reason 
upon  the  material  that  it  gives  to  you  ?  Why  does  God  himself 
present  his  attributes,  his  character,  and  his  government,  to  the  hu- 
man understanding,  if  it  is  an  evil  or  a  sin  to  employ  our  feeble 
minds  upon  them  ?  We  are  fairly  provoked  to  it  in  the  Word  of 
God.  We  are  challenged  by  every  form  of  appeal  to  ponder  the 
character  of  God.     By  every  mental  stimulant  we  are  provoked  to  it. 


112  HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  GOD. 

The  Bible  is  itself  a  standing  answer  to  all  who  think  it  presumptuous 
for  men  to  reason  about  God,  or  who  teach  that  they  are  to  take  tho 
current  ideas  of  divinity  without  reason  and  without  protest.  It  is 
wholesome  for  a  man  to  discriminate,  and  demand  before  he  wor- 
ships that  there  be  that  presented  to  his  mind  which  is  worshipful. 

But  it  is  said,  "  We  must  accept  implicitly  what  the  Scriptures 
teach;  and  for  us  to  employ  our  reasou  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the 
Scriptures,  and  determine  whether  they  ought  to  teach,  or  ought 
not  to  teach,  this  or  that  doctrine,  is  monstrously  culpable.  We 
should  accept  what  the  Scriptures  teach."  So  hold  I.  But  what 
do  they  teach?  That  is  the  very  question.  On  that  point  people 
and  learned  men  in  different  ages  have  differed — differed  according 
to  the  mental  philosophy  of  their  age ;  differed  according  to  the  prev- 
alent ideas  of  government  that  shape  their  reading  of  the  Bible  ; 
differed  according  to  the  dominant  codes  of  morality  and  theology 
under  which  they  have  been  educated.  It  has  been  so;  it  must 
always  be  so.  There  is  no  help  for  it.  But  upon  the  whole,  the  ideas 
of  God  are  growing  by  this  very  difference ;  by  the  controversies 
which  it  leads  to ;  by  the  general  progress  of  civility.  And  with 
this  favorable  element,  the  conceptions  of  God's  uature  are  growing 
higher,  nobler,  more  purely  derived  from  the  moral  sentiments,  more 
and  more  cleansed  from  all  the  taint  of  men's  passions. 

•  It  is  true  that  God's  nature  never  changes  ;  but  man's  concejDtion 
of  it  changes.  It  is  true  that  God  does  not 'grow;  but  human  ideas 
of  God  grow.  And  the  eai'lier  developments  without  a  revelation, 
and  indeed  the  earlier  interj)retations  of  the  revelation  of  God,  were 
largely  infused  with  elements  which  sprang  from  man's  passional 
nature.  In  the  progress  of  civilization,  in  the  development  of  the 
household,  and,  above  all,  in  the  more  perfect  working  out  of  the 
New  Testament  spirit,  man  has  become  such  in  his  moral  nature  that 
he  gets  a  better  conception  of  God,  and  cleanses  his  old  notion. 

A  single  other  thought.  It  is  imj^ossible  to  separate  the  funda- 
mental ideas  of  the  perfect  human  character  from  the  ideas  of  divine 
rectitude.  You  can  not  have  two  moralities.  You  can  not  have  two 
styles  of  character,  one  founded  on  one  kind  of  morality,  and  another 
upon  anotlier.  That  which  is  right  in  God  is  right  in  man.  That 
which  is  not  right  in  man  is  not  right  in  God.  You  can  not  confound 
things  without  utter  destruction  to  a  man's  reason  and  moral  sense, 
by  saying  that  things  which  it  would  be  fundamentally  wrong  for  a 
creature  to  do,  would  be  right  for  God  to  do.  If  lying  is  wicked  in 
man,  it  is  even  more  wicked  in  God.  If  it  be  man's  duty  to  maintain 
fidelity  to  word  and  pledge,  still  more  intensely  is  it  morally  obliga- 
tory that  a  superior  Being  should.  As  you  go  up  in  the  scale  of  be- 
I  ing,  you  do  not  get  liberty  of  passion,  but  you  get  circumscription 


HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  GOD.  113 

of  passion,  and  a  larger  moral  obligation  in  a  man.  It  is  sometimes 
said  that  such  and  such  courses  would  be  unspeakably  cruel  in  men  ; 
but  that  God  is  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth,  and  whatever  he  does 
is  right.  It  is  not  so.  A  thing  that  is  essentially  cruel  among  men, 
becomes  essentially  cruel,  under  the  same  circumstances  and  in  the 
same  light,  if  performed  by  God.  Self-laudation — is  it  hateful  among 
men  ?  Then  it  is  hateful  in  God.  Pride — is  it  forbidden  to  man  ? 
That  kind  of  pride  which  is  forbidden  to  man  is  forbidden  to  God. 
Self-seeking — if  it  is  wrong  for  you,  it  is  wrong  for  God.  If  it  is  wrong 
for  you  to  seek  your  own  glory,  then  it  is  wrong  for  God  to  be  a 
seeker  of  his  own  glory.  If  it  is  wrong  for  men  to  go  about  coveting 
each  other's  praises,  it  is  no  more  right  because  the  being  that  does 
it  sits  in  the  supreme  centre  of  authority.  Essentially  there  must  be 
but  one  and  the  same  kind  of  attributes  for  the  Christian  character 
and  for  the  Christ — for  devout  men  upon  earth,  and  for  the  God  that 
inspires  that  devotion.     There  is  to  be  moral  unity  everywhere. 

Any  other  view  than  this  introduces  infinite  confusion.  Hence  any 
teaching  of  God  that  contravenes  the  world's  sterling  notions  of  mo- 
rality will  make  it  impossible  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  K  there  be  a 
style  of  theology  that  shocks  the  moral  sensibility,  that  overthrows  the 
ordinary  deductions  of  conscience,  that  throws  the  ordinary  sentiments 
of  honor,  and  truth,  and  fidelity  into  disgrace,  it  will  make  it  impossi- 
ble that  any  one  should  worship  God.  No  man  can  worship  except  by 
the  consent  of  his  understanding,  by  the  consent  of  his  moral  nature, 
by  the  consent  of  his  heart  and  affections ;  and  it  makes  all  the  difier- 
ence  in  the  world;  in  leading  men  to  worship  God,  what  is  the  God 
that  you  frame  and  present  to  them  for  worship.'  For  if  he  be  not 
beautiful,  men  will  not  admire.  If  he  be  not  attractive,  men  will  not 
be  drawn  toward  him.     If  he  be  not  worthy,  men  will  not  applaud. 

When,  therefore,  men — using,  it  may  be,  the  language  of  Scripture, 
and  not  taking  it  out  of  its  figurative  sense,  or  giving  it  a  larger  interpre- 
tation than  its  mere  literal  one — have  taught  us  that  God  lives  for  his 
own  glory,  how  many  hearts  have  tui'ned  a'way !  Not  even  the  fear 
of  being  lost-  could  compel  them  to  worship  a  Supreme  Being  who  sat 
seeking  that  which  he  utterly.forbids  us  to  seek — his  own  selfish  glory. 
To  teach  that  God  has  a  right  to  do  as  he  pleases — unless  he  pleases 
to  do  benevolently — is  to  teach  a  view  of  God  which  can  not  but  af- 
front the  moral  understanding.  The  Bible  does  not  teach  it.  Why 
should  men,  following  a  mere  literal  interpretation  of  certain  phrases 
set  aside  the  ground  of  revelation,  which  is  that  God,  in  following 
the  great  ends  of  beaevolence,  acts  as  he  pleases  in  the  selection  of 
instruments  ?  Why  should  the  administration  of  God  be  carried  back 
as  a  part  of  his  abstract  character,  and  men  teach  that  because  he 
employs  such  men,  such  instruments,  and  such  times  as  he  pleases,  to 


114  HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  QOD. 

carry  out  lais  works  of  wisdom  and  benevolence,  therefore  he  is  a  be- 
ing that  has  a  right  to  do  as  he  pleases  in  the  abstract  and  universal 
sense  of  that  term  ? 

The  New  Testament  educates  men  to  the  knowledge  of  virtue,  of 
honor,  of  fidelity.  The  New  Testament  contains  a  schedule  of  mora- 
lity and  piety  for  the  individual,  for  the  household,  and  for  the  civil 
estate  ;  and  it  purports  to  educate  men  thereby,  that  they  may  be- 
come like  God.  And  if  the  educated  moral  sense  is  offended,  no  man 
can  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

The  moral  sense  of  a  Christian  community,  therefore,  becomes  at 
last  a  fair  tribunal,  and  furnishes  criteria  of  interjjretation.  The  mo- 
ral sentiment  of  a  truly  intelligent,  educated  Christian  community  is 
one  before  which  theology  itself  must  be  tried.  It  is  true  that  theol- 
ogy goes  before  in  the  order  of  time  ;  but  it  is  just  as  true  that  by 
and  by  theology  itself  has  to  go  back  to  that  community  which  it  has 
instructed,  and  has  itself  to  be  tried  by  that  very  conscience  which 
in  part  it  has  itself  formed.  I  will  not  say  that  the  everlasting  God 
is  tried  before  the  moral  sense  of  the  community ;  but  I  will  say  that 
meti's  ideas  of  God  are  on  trial  before  the  moral  sense  of  the  community 
in  which  they  live :  and  that  a  community  where  men  are  virtuous, 
and  pure,  and  benevolent,  and  are  laboring  by  all  the  power  of  their 
understanding,  and  of  their  wealth,  to  do  good  in  society,  has  in  it  a 
criterio7i/in  their  moral  sense,  by  which  to  judge  of  God's  moral  cha- 
racter and  administration  which  is  presented  to  them  for  their  wor- 
ship and  for  their  obedience. 

If,  therefore,  it  be  taught  that  God  has  a  right  to  control  all  things 
by  his  will,  simply  because  he  has  the  power,  it  is  to  authenticate 
moral  despotism.  Such  a  view  of  God  has  prevailed.  Men  have 
taught  that  God  had  a  right  to  rule,  simply  because  he  was  the 
strongest.  It  is  true  that  the  wisest,  the  best,  and  the  strongest  must 
take  precedence.  It  is  true,  therefore,  that  God  has  a  right  to  reign 
in  heaven  and  on  earth — everywhere — but  not  because  he  has  power 
to  reign.  It  is  true  that  when  you  see  the  use  that  God  makes  of 
his  power,  you  can  not  help  following  with  those  that  in  the  apoca- 
lyptic vision  worshiped  his  powei*,  and*  acclaimed  praise  to  it ;  b-ut 
when  you  look  at  the  question  narrowly,  and  reduce  it  to  its  basis,  no 
being  in  heaven  or  on  earth  has  a  right  to  reign  sira2:)ly  because  he  has 
power.  Right  goes  with  moral  quality.  If  God's  conscience  is  pure, 
and  supreme  over  all  consciences  ;  if  God's  moi'al  sentiments  are 
themselves  the  very  fountains  from  which  our  moral  sentiments  flow  ; 
if  his  wisdom  is  supreme  and  unerring;  if  his  love  is  broader,  deeper, 
higher,  wider,  and  more  full  of  bounty  than  any  other  love,  these 
qualities  raise  him  to  supremacy.  But  the  mere  fact  that  God  made 
men,  is  no  more  an  argument  that  he  owns  them,  than  is  the  fact  that 


HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOB.  115 

I  have  cliildren  an  argument  that  I  own  them.  I  have  obligations  to 
rear  them ;  but  when  they  come  to  man's  estate,  is  the  mere  fact  of 
paternity  a  reason  why  I  may  wring  their  necks  off,  or  why  I  may 
make  a  slave  of  one,  and  put  one  in  hateful  preference  over  another  ? 
Paternity  gives  no  one  a  right  to  set  at  naught  the  great  moral  dis- 
tinctions which  love  and  conscience  have  established  in  the  world. 
It  does  not  among  men,  and  still  less  does  it  in  God.  Those  doctrines, 
therefore,  are  inconsistent  with  a  cheerful  reliance  upon  the  will  of 
God,  which  have  taught  that  God  had  a  right  to  reign  simjily  because 
he  had  power  to  do  it ;  that  we  had  no  business  to  question  that 
divine  power;  and  that,  when  men  set  up  their  images  of  ideas,  their 
idols  of  teaching,  saying  "  This  is  God,"  if  men  questioned  them,  they 
questioned  the  real  God  because  they  questioned  these  theoretic  gods. 
And  this  idea  that  God  had  a  right  to  reign  simply  because  he  was 
able  to  do  it,  would  be  despotism  in  heaven  as  much  more  hateful 
t^an  despotism  is  upon  earth,  as  the  sphere  is  broader,  and  the  Being 
wiser  and  more  comprehensive. 

God's  wisdom,  God's  justice,  God's  truth,  God's  love,  God's  fidel- 
ity— these  give  him — shall  I  say  right  ? — necessity^  to  reign.  These 
exalt  him,  and  on  these  stand  the  throne  of  the  universe. 

It  is  thought  by  many  that  God  seeks  his  own  glory,  and  de- 
mands the  universe  to  become  courtiers.  But  the  figurative  language 
of  Scripture,  which  is  borrowed  from  courts,  is  not  to  us  what  it  was 
to  those  to  whom  it  first  came.  It  is  transferred  to  us  without  losing 
its  bad  flavor — especially  the  idea  that  God  sits  in  heaven,  and  that 
heaven  is  for  the  most  part  a  great  singing-school,  and  that  every 
body  stands  about  the  great  white  throne,  and  sings,  and  sings,  and 
sings.  And  people  wonder  what  they  do  when  they  are  not  singing. 
And  it  seems,  judging  from  the  theological  notions  pn  that  subject, 
as  though  there  was  almost  nothing  else  for  them  to  do.  And  by 
and  by  there  come  doubts  creeping  into  men's  minds.  And  the  child, 
when  he  begins  to  reflect,  says,  "  What  is  the  reason  my  father  will 
not  let  me  be  praised,  while  it  is  taught  that  God  sits  in  the  centre 
of  iiniversal  flattery,  and  is  praised,  and  likes  it,  and  angel  bands, 
perpetually,  night  and  day,  praise  him  ?" 

Tell  that  child  the  truth,  and  heaven  becomes  a  very  diflerent 
place.  Say  to  him,  "Love  is  always  triumphant ;  love  always  breaks 
out  into  admiration  ;  happiness  is  ecstatic,  and  seeks  expression  ; 
heaven  is  the  place  of  supreme  haj^piness  ;  and  God's  character  is  the 
most  beautiful,  and  most  gentle,  and  most  amiable,  as  well  as  the 
most  supernal  and  glorious  of  any  character  in  the  universe."  And  as, 
when  the  household  gather  together  on  Thanksgiving  or  Christmas 
day,  the  children  coming  back  to  the  old  homestead,  and  see  tlioir 
venerable  father  and  mother,  they  have  such  a  sense  of  their  virtues 


116  HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOD. 

and  excellences  tbat  they  give  expression  to  overflowing  congratula 
tions,  and  feelings  of  love  and  joy;  so  in  this  sense  it  is  that  angels 
are  forever  praising  God  in  heaven.  It  is  cei'tainly  not  the  praise  of 
courtiers,  nor  of  a  great  white  row  of  angels  that  foolish  painters  re- 
present as  standing  like  so  many  candles,  in  candelabra ;  or  like  so 
many  stalagmites  or  stalactites  in  a  cave.  Not  that.  But  in  the  in- 
finite liberty  of  the  heart,  in  the  infinite  joy  of  every  man's  soul,  in 
the  i^erfect  satisfaction  of  taste,  and  sympathy,  and  conscience,  and 
love,  in  the  blessedness  of  a  character  that  touches  and  fills  every 
faculty,  men  give  their  feelings  expression,  every  one  just  as  he  wills 
— the  artist  in  his  way  ;  the  orator  in  his  way  ;  the  woman  according 
to  her  way ;  the  man  according  to  his  way ;  the  child  in  its  way ; 
the  enthusiastic  in  their  way ;  the  thoughtful  in  their  way.  Every 
heart  has  liberty  of  love  ;  and  love  is  the  highest  praise ;  and  the  ex- 
pression of  it  is  the  highest  worship.  And  you  may  depend  upon  it 
that  the  stately  notions  which  have  found  their  way  into  some  of  our 
books  will  be  quite  banished  out  of  heaven. 

If,  therefore,  it  be  taught  that  God  sits  in  heaven,  and  is  th€  joy- 
ful recipient  of  infinite  flatteries  on  every  side,  though  it  is  very 
wicked  for  us  to  be  flattered,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  the 
history  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  who  one  morning  looked  out  on  Babylon, 
and  said,  "  Is  not  this  great  Babylon  that  I  have  builded  for  the 
house  of  my  kingdom,  by  the  might  of  my  power,  and  for  the  honor 
of  my  majesty?"  and  who,  because  he  towered  up  in  that  arrogant 
self-consciousness,  was  smitten  down  and  sent  to  grass  ?  Shall  we  be 
taught  that,  after  hurling  his  bolt  of  judgment  upon  that  proud  ori- 
ental monarch  for  his  arrogance,  God  may  stand  and  look  over  the 
battlements  of  heaven, 'and  say,  "Is  not  this  great  Jerusalem  that  I 
have  builded  for«my  honor  and  power,  and  for  the  glory  of  my  name," 
and  that  this  is  perfectly  right  in  the  New  Jerusalem,^  though  it  was 
detestable  in  the  old,  or  in  the  neighboring  cities  of  it?  There  must 
be  congruity  of  representations,  or  the  mind  can  never  say,  "  Thy 
will  be  done." 

If  it  be  taught  again,  that  God  supervises  and  punishes  .his 
creatures  needlessly  ;  if  it  be  taught  that  God  prepares  this  world  as 
a  vast  trap  ;  that  he  without  their  consent,  and,  without  any  reason 
of  either  good  or  evil  beforehand,  through  weary  centuries,  pours 
myriad  hordes  of  men  into  a  dark  world,  where  they  stagger  with- 
out knowledge  and  light,  and  forever  and  forever  damns  them  be- 
cause they  act  according  to  their  circumstances — if  this  be  the  teach- 
ing in  respect  to  God,  can  any  man  look  up  into  his  face,  and  say,  "  Thy 
will  be  done"  ? 

Oh  !  it  is  calling  for  a  perpetuated  hell  upon  earth.     It  is  calling 


HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  QOD.  117 

for  the  continuous  march  of  a  cruelty  more  unfathomable  and  unutter- 
able than  can  otherwhere  find  any  expression. 

And  if  it  be  taught  that  God  points  out  the  laws  which  shall  gov- 
ern men  in  the  way  of  duty,  and  that  then,  by  secret  decrees,  he  under- 
mines those  laws;  if  God  says  to  men,  "Do  this  and  live,"  and  then 
withholds  the  power  to  do  it,  and  they  die  because  they  have  no  power ; 
if  he  lays  commands  on  men  that  transcend  their  ability,  and  then  pun- 
ishes them  because  they  do  not  do  what  they  can  not  do  ;  if  any  of 
that  hideous,  dismal  phantasmagoria  be  taught  that  sprang  from  the 
nightmare  periods  of  theology,  that  makes  God  a  Juggei'naut  tyrant, 
and  life  a  snare,  and  the  welfare  of  countless  myriads  no  more  to  him 
than  are  the  rats  that  the  terrier  kills  in  the  pit  in  New- York  to  the 
ugly  owner  of  the  pit;  if  it  be  taught  that  God  does  such  things  as 
these,  can  you  accept  him,  and  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done"  ?  Can  you 
take  the  palpitating  hearts  of  men  and  women,  and  look  at  them  as 
they  swarm  in  Africa  and  Asia,  and  have  been  swarming  since  time 
began — myriads;  more  than  the  drops  that  pour  down  over  Niagara 
Falls,  day  and  night  through  the  year — can  you  take  them,  and  think 
that  God  is  trifling  with  them,  and  playing  experiments  Avith  them, 
and  then  look  up  into  the  face  of  such  a  hideous  Being,  and  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done"  ? 

Oh !  there  must  be  more  in  God,  or  we  can  not  worship  him.  Life 
itself  is  bad  enough  ;  it  is  dark  enough ;  the  problems  that  we  meet 
are  inexplicable  enough — those  practical  problems;  those  "whys" 
that  come  staggering  down  the  dark  ways  of  human  experience.  Why 
such  tears  ?  Why  such  ignorance  ?  Why  such  lustful  cruelties  ?  Why 
such  misfortunes  ?  Why  such  hideous  jjoverty  ?  Why  such  a  creation 
groaning  and  travailing  in  pain  until  now  ?  And  all  the  alleviation 
that  a  man  can  get  is  this,  that  evil  has  a  mission  better  than  we  think, 
and  an  outcome  and  ministration  that  shall  in  the  end  work  out  a  bet- 
ter condition — a  salvation  truly  glorious. 

And  if  you  add  to  the  difficulty  by  taking  these  demoniac  elements 
and  putting  them  into  God,  enshrining  them  in  the  divine  nature, 
and  then  demand,  "This  is  God;  now  say,  'Thy  will  be  done,'  "  I 
had  rather  die.  I  should  die.  I  could  not  do  it.  I  can  say  to  love, 
"Wear  the  crown."  I  can  say  'to  wisdom,  Avorking  out  the  counsels 
of  love,  "  Reign."  And  I  can  say  to  power,  whether  it  reverberates 
in  the  thunder,  whether  it  rolls  in  war,  Avhether  it  manifests  itself 
on  the  scale  of  nations  or  in  the  minuteness  of  individual  life,  if  it 
is  working  according  to  the  counsels  of  infinite  wisdom  and  infinite 
love,  "  Reign — reignP  Four  score  years  ?  It  is  cheap  for  immortali- 
ty, to  suffer  four  score  years,  if  it  is  needful  in  order  that  the  human 
family  may  develop  step  by  step  the  higher  and  nobler  traits  which 
belong   to   their   nature.     And  though  life  be  one  vast,  multiplex 


118  HUMAN  IDEAS   OF    GOD. 

pang,  if  men  are  to  be  born  into  virtue,  as  they  are  born  into  the 
■world,  by  cries  and  tears,  and  I  know  that  "it  is  supervised  by  a  God 
who  is  working  out  of  things  final  jjraise  and  glory  and  happiness,  I  can 
say,  "  Reign  on — reign  on.''''  But  if  the  world  is  one  vast  Juggernaut^ 
;and  God's  decrees  are  thundering  on,  and  the  vast  wheels  of  nature  and 
of  life  are  rolling  over  myriads  of  men,  and  the  pathway  of  decrees  is 
blood,  hlood^  blood,  how  can  I  worship  ?  How  can  I  take  the  lessons 
that  Christ  taught  me  ?  How  can  I  read  such  words  as  these  : 
"  Let  this  mind  be  in  you,  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus :  who, 
being  in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with 
God :  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the 
form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men :  and  being 
found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  himself,  and  became  obedient 
unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross.  Wherefore  God  also  hath 
highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every 
name:  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in 
heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth"  ? 

Do  not  be  A^'aid  to  bow  before  Jesus.  O  that  cross ! — blessed 
be  God,  it  is  the  enfranchisement  of  theology.  It  stands  up  against 
heaven  to  say,  "  God,  with  his  infinite  power,  is  not  cruel.  God  is 
the  sufierer,  and  not  one  that  makes  suflering."  The  divine  nature  is 
not  one  that  oppresses  races,  as  the  cluster  is  pressed,  that  the  wine 
may  flow  out  into  the  vintner's  cup.  The  testimony  of  Clirist's  life, 
and  the  mission  of  Christ's  death,  and  that  everlasting  love  that 
streams  from  the  cross  of  Christ  is,  "  God  so  loved  the  world." 
Loved  it  ?  No  mother  ever  loved  her  child  half  so  much.  And  yet, 
what  mother  is  there  that  did  not  in  her  small,  feeble  way,  symbo- 
lize the  whole  atonement  of  Christ  ?  What  mother  is  there  that  did 
not  bring  forth  her  child  Avith  pangs,  and  strong  crying,  and 
tears?  What  mother  is  there  that  did  not  take  the  utter 
helplessness  of  the  little  babe  for  weeks  and  months,  and  give 
her  life  for  it  ?  How  she  gives  up  her  sleep  ;  how  she  gives  up 
her  heart's  desires  ;  how  she  foregoes  pleasure ;  how  she  withdraws 
herself  from  society ;  how  she  gives  the  whole  royalty  of  her  rich 
nature  to  that  little  child  that  can  neither  speak,  nor  think,  nor 
know  what  helps  it !  And  then  through  what  sickness  does  she 
watch  !  And  with  what  labor  and  pain  does  she  develop  the  child  ! 
And  how  does  she  bring  it  finally,  to  intelligence  and  virtue  and 
manhood,  all  the  way  through  a  living  sacrifice  of  love  for  the  child  ! 

Is  not  the  cradle  a  Gethsemane  ?  Is  not  the  cradle  a  Calvary  ? 
Not  that  it  is  equal  to  it ;  not  that  it  is  the  same  in  majesty  and  im 
portance  and  sanctity  ;  but  is^'lhere  not  hidden  in,  veiled  under,  these 
acts  and  fidelities  of  the  household,  a  symbol  of  that  everlasting 
truth  which  is  vaster  than  nature  can  express  or  life  can  know — 


HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOD.  119 

namely,  that  God  is  not  a  tyrant,  and  does  not  drink  blood,  nor  let 
the  world  drink  it ;  that  God  hates  cruelty ;  and  that  all  the  suffer- 
ing and  sorrow  which  we  see  on  earth  is  only  on  the  way  to  a  con- 
Bummation  of  everlasting  victory  and  gladness  and  joy  ? 

I  thank  God  for  the  testimony  of  the  cross.  It  disi^ossesses  the 
heathen  notions.  It  takes  out  of  the  heavens  the  tyranny  of  a  God 
whom  I  can  not  worship,  and  to  whom  I  can  not  say,  "  Thy  will  be 
done;"  and  it  puts  there  a  loving  Christ,  who  will  use  pain  and 
tears  and  blood,  but  will  use  them  as  medicines — will  use  them  in 
government  for  restoration,  for  education,  for  elevation,  foV  salvation. 
Give  me  that  God  who  is  represented  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I 
can  bow  down  and  worship  him. 

0  ye  that  are  so  conscientious,  and  so  tremulously  afraid  of  idol- 
atry that  you  go  groping  in  heathen  antiquity,  with  a  vague  feel- 
ing unexpressed,  for  the  Father,  the  great  Almighty ;  ye  who  long 
for  that  God,  will  you  press  away  the  brightest  exemplification,  the 
real  and  literal  embodiment  of  this  everlasting  Father — Jesus  Christ  ? 
Praying  for  light,  praying  for  knowledge,  and  having  it  brought  to 
you  in  the  person  of  Christ  Jesus,  who  loves,  and  lives  to  love,  and 
reigns,  and  reigns  to  love,  and  by  love  shall  subdue  all  disobedience, 
and  cleanse  all  sin,  and  redeem  the  world  to  everlasting  rapture  and 
glory  through  righteousness,  will  you  not  take  that  preeminent  repre- 
sentation of  God — the  best  that  can  be  given  to  the  human  under- 
Btanding  and  the  human  senses ;  and  will  you  not,  with  all  that 
are  in  heaven,  and  all  that  yet  shall  be  upon  earth,  bow  the  knee,  and 
cry,  "  Crown  him,  crown  him  Lord  of  all "  ? 

1  have  no  such  theological  afiinities  as  that  I  should  seek  to  drive 
you  out  of  one  sect,  or  into  another.  All  my  sympathies  in  my  minis- 
trations are  not  with  the  scliools  and  sects,  but  with  the  great  human 
family.  I  belong  to  living  men.  I  feel  for  living  men.  I  see  their 
doubts  and  their  difficulties.  I  see  their  sorrows  and  their  pains.  I 
have' found  my  way  out  of  them.  I  have  found  it  at  the  touch  of  the 
Saviour.  I  have  worshiped  Christ.  I  do  worship  him,  I  have  no 
fear  that  there  is  any  jealousy  in  heaven,  and  that  the  Father,  the  God 
of  all,  is  angry  because  I  worship  Christ.  I  see  many  persons  who  are 
in  bondage  through  fear  of  death.  I  see  men  that  are  bound,  and  that 
are  staggering..  Oh  !  that  I  could  show  them  God  as  he  is  represented 
in  Christ  Jesus — the  self-sacrificing  God ;  the  fatherly  God ;  the  God 
who  is  represented  as  giving  himself  rather  than  let  you  desti'oy  your- 
selves ;  as  taking  men's  sins,  and  carrying  them  in  his  own  experi- 
ence, rather  than  that  men  should  suffer.  That  God  who  is  rej)resen- 
ted  in  Christ  Jesus  is  the  cure  of  fgar  and  doubt,  and  is  the  very  an- 
chor of  the  soul  in  all  its  wanderings  and  driftings  and  storm-dri- 
vings. 


120  EUMAJf  IDEAS  OF  GOD. 

And  to  you  I  present  this  view  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  loviug  God,  the 
paternal  God.  Begin  and  say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven, 
Hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come" — stop  !  if  you  say  the 
next  sentence,  it  is  all  gone — you  are  his — "Thy  will  be  done.'* 
What !  In  you  ?  In  your  reason  ?  In  your  taste  ?  In  your  aiFec- 
tions  ?  In  God's  providential  counsels  for  you  in  the  affairs  of  your 
family  ?  Stand  then,  mother,  over  your  little  child  that  lies  sick  in 
the  cradle,  and  say,  if  you  can,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven" — 
then  God  is  your  Father,  and  he  loves  your  child  better  than  you  do 
— "  Hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come" — now  do  you  dare 
look  down  into  the  face  of  your  little  child  and  say,  "  Thy  will  be 
done,"  if  it  is  the  will  of  God  to  take  the  child  ? 

Look  upon  your  estate,  that  seems  trembling,  and  about  to  totter 
and  fall.  Look  upon  your  property  that  seems  to  take  to  itself  wings 
and  fly  away.  In  my  boyish  days,  in  just  such  weather  as  this,  in  old 
Bethlehem,  Connecticut,  where  I  studied  Latin  by  hunting  pigeons,  I 
have  stood  and  *een  among  the  young  and  tender  leaves  thousands, 
myriads  of  pigeons.  The  trees  seemed  laden  with  them.  And  I  see 
in  the  city  hei-e,  rich  men,  all  of  whose  branches  are  loaded  down 
with  money.  At  the  report  of  a  gun,  or  the  flight  of  a  stone,  or  a  lit- 
tle shout,  the  pigeons,  with  a  rip  and  a  roar,  all  rose,  and  the  air  was 
clamorous,  as  they  flew  every  whither ;  and  in  a  minute  the  wood  was 
still,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the  bark  of  a  squirrel.  They  had 
taken  to  themselves  wings  and  flown  away.  And  so  the  man  that 
yesterday  was  branch-ful,  to-day  is  branch-less.  Every  thing  is  strip- 
ped from  him,  and  gone.  And  can  you  stand  in  your  barrenness  and 
say,  "Thy  will  be  done"? 

Between  two  there  has  come  the  shallow  and  the  darkness,  and 
both  hearts  sorrow,  and  both  yearn.  Can  you  both  say,  in  the  sight 
of  final,  everlasting  separation — in  this  world,  everlasting — "Thy  will 
be  done"? 

Can  you  stand  in  the  house  of  your  j^ride,  and  say,  "  Thy  will  be 
done  "  ?  Is  your  God  such  an  one  that,  for  the  sake  of  the  sweetness 
in  him,  for  the  sake  of  the  beauty  in  him,  for  the  sake  of  the  joy  that 
you  have  in  him,  for  the  sake  of  his  glorious  excellence,  you  can  say 
of  your  pride,  "  God's  will  be  done  therein  "  ?  Can  you  say  it  of  your 
vanity  ?  Can  you  hush  every  passion  to  sleep  with  the  name  of  God  ? 
Can  you  rock  your  soul  quiet  with  the  name  of  God  ?  Or  have  you 
none?  Is  your  God  like  a  barren  field,  or  a  field  of  stubble,  or  like 
straw  with  the,grain  threshed  out  of  it  ?  The  true  God,  the  Christian's 
God,  tlic  God  that  fiiith  takes  hold  of,  fills  the  heaven,  fills  the  earth, 
fills  time,  fills  providence,  fills  nature,  fills  his  own  soul,  and  is  with 
him  by  day  and  by  night,  in  his  I'ising  up  and  his  sitting  down ;  and 
he  can  say,  "Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee?     There  is  none 


HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  GOD.  121 

upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee.  My  flesh  and  my  heart  fail : 
but  God  is  the  strength  of  ray  heart,  and  my  jsortiou  forever."  Have 
you  any  such  God  ?  Can  you  trust  him  ?  Can  you  worship  him  ? 
Can  yon  join  with  me,  and  look  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  to-day,  and 
say,  "  Thy  will  be  done  "  ?  At  that  enchantment  burdens  roll  off,  cares 
fly  away,  darkness  lifts,  the  earth  is  transformed,  events  have  a  new 
significance,  and  those  experiences  that  have  seemed  before  to  us  to  be 
so  many  persecutions,  now  begin  to  letter  themselves  and  form  sen- 
tiences ;  and  every  letter  and  every  sentence  begins  to  be  a  literature 
interpreting  the  goodness,  the  mercy,  and  glory  of  God  to  us. 

I  beseech  of  you,  turn  not  away  from  such  a  blessed  God  as  that. 
Accept  the  j)rivilege  and  bounty  and  unspeakable  joy  of  saying,  "  Thy 
will  be  done." 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOX. 

Our  fathers'  God,  we  bless  thee  for  the  knowledge,  and  for  the  comfort  which 
we  have  had  in  the  knowledge,  of  thee  ;  for  all  the  instructions  of  our  childhood ; 
for  the  hopes  which  have  clustered  round  about  thy  name  ;  for  the  sacred  inspira- 
tions which  have  given  earnestness  and  purpose  to  our  lives ;  for  that  secret 
strength  by  which  we  have  borne  burdens  and  trials.  We  thank  thee  for  the  en- 
larging bounds  of  truth.  No  longer  do  we  think  ourselves  creatures  of  this  world 
alone,  which  is  but  »,  nest.  Here  we  learn  to  fly,  and  fly  away  from  the  world 
where  we  were  born.  Here  we  are,  that  we  may  be  trained.  But  then  our  life  is 
to  be  hid  in  the  Invisible ;  and  there  these  rude  powers  are  to  have  their  full 
scope.  We  are  learning  here  to  love ;  and  there  we  shall  have  the  society  of 
those  that  are  worthy  of  love.  Here  we  are  trying  our  paces.  Here  we  are 
practicing  each  faculty  and  disposition.  There,  where  thou  art,  like  children 
come  home  from  school,  we  shall  have  the  liberty  and  blessedness  of  the  joy  and 
intelligence  of  the  Father's  house. 

We  thank  thee  for  these  truths,  and  we  thank  thee  that  they  grow  clearer  to 
us,  and  unspeakably  more  precious,  as  time  passes  on,  as  the  world  is  growing 
old  to  so  many  of  us.  As  we  behold  the  far  horizon  drawing  near,  and  the  sun 
plunging  to  set,  we  rejoice  that  there  lies  beyond  the  sun  a  clime  whose  light  is 
God — that  has  no  days,  no  revolutions  of  years  and  seasons,  no  winter,  and  no 
want — high,  cloudless,  blessed,  and  eternal.  Its  foundations  are  sure.  Into  it 
shall  enter  nothing  that  defiles.  From  it  shall  be  purged  out  and  away  all  that 
is  uncleanly.  Thou  thyself  art  there.  There  art  thou,  bringing  from  every- 
where sons  and  daughters.  We  rejoice  that  into  that  blessed  abode,  how  long 
soever  their  pilgrimage,  so  many  weary  thousands  shall  enter,  as  countless  num- 
bers have  entered.  We  rejoice  to-day  to  think  of  all  our  own  that  have  gone 
fortl^  from  us,  and  are  there.  4s  birds  flying  from  the  inclement  winter  to  the 
land  of  the  South,  our  children  have  gone,  that  sung  in  the  boughs  with  us,  and 
now  sing  no  more.    And  yet  are  not  they  with  thee  in  the  summer  land,  where 


122  HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  OOD. 

tliou  dost  Lring  so  many  that  seemed  too  good  for  tliis  world — too  good  for  oxct 
care  and  keeping  ?  And  there  are  many  garnered  who  taught  us,  and  led  us  by 
the  hand.  They  are  at  rest  from  the  care,  from  the  battle,  from  the  storm,  from 
the  temptation,  from  the  weight  of  years.  The  burdens  are  taken  from  them, 
and  they  are  with  thee,  safely  housed  in  heaven.  And  there  are  companions 
that  walked  with  us,  and  held  sweet  counsel  with  us,  and  have  performed  with 
us  the  thousand  commingled  labors  of  thought,  and  love,  and  assiduity,  the  vari 
ous  duties  of  life,  separated  only  in  form  from  us,  still  ours  more  than  ever,  but 
at  rest  in  the  unwearied  land,  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest,  and  pain,  and  sorrow,  and  tears,  and  crying,  are  gone  forever.  . 

O  Lord,  our  God  !  we  draw  near  to  the  border  of  that  land — the  spring-land — 
this  morning,  to  quicken  our  hope  and  our  faith.  Is  it  there  ?  Is  it  waiting  1 
Are  we  known  there  t  Is  our  name  called  ?  Dost  thou,  O  Lord  Jesus  Christ ! 
long  for  us  ?  Art  thou  as  we  are  when  our  children  are  away  ?  Dost  thou  pre- 
pare a  place  ?  Art  thou  gone  before  only  because  that  is  home,  that  where  thou 
art  we  may  by  and  by  be  also  ?  Give  us  this  faith,  and  there  can  be  no  more 
darkness,  and  no  more  trouble.  Let  us  be  so  joined  to  thee  that  we  shall  feel 
that  thou  canst  not  bear  separation ;  that  it  is  not  our  helplessness  that  is  hanging 
on  thy  breast  alone,  but  that  it  is  the  want  of  thine  heart  that  craves  us ;  and 
that  love  in  thee  is  like  love  in  us  on  earth,  and  craves  its  beloved  evermore. 
Oh  !  give  to  us  this  faith  of  thyself,  and  then  what  can  harm  us  ?  With  thy  love 
how  can  we  be  poor  ?  With  the  divine  love  how  can  we  ever  be  solitary  ?  How 
can  we  be  bereaved  ?  It  is  compensation  for  all  inequality.  It  is  the  substitute 
of  all  earthly  joy.  It  is  the  blessedness  of  every  estate  or  experience.  Come  joy 
or  come  sorrow,  come  light  or  come  darkness,  give  thine  own  self  to  us, with  the  sweet 
ministration  of  thy  love,  and  we  are  able  to  bear  all  things.  But  without  thee 
we  can  do  nothing.  Then  there  is  solitariness,  indeed,  of  heart.  Woe  to  those 
that  are  in  great  sorrow,  and  have  no  God,  no  sanctuary  of  love,. none  that  can 
take  them  up  higher  than  their  own  fretting  thoughts,  and  hush  them  to  rest  as 
a  mother  her  babe  \ypou  her  breast.  Woe  be  to  those  that  »re  without  God,  and 
without  hope  in  this  world ! 

Draw  near,  we  beseech  of  thee,  thou  most  merciful  One,  this  morning,  and 
grant  to  all  in  thy  presence  a  deep  sense  of  their  need,  and  of  the  pleni- 
tude of  blessing  which  they  have  in  thee,  if  they  would  but  accept  thee.  Reveal 
thyself  to  them  as  their  best  Friend — their  Father,  and  their  Almighty  Lover. 
May  none  be  afraid.  May  none  seek  to  hide  themselves.  May  every  one  have 
grace  to  approach  the  throne  of  grace,  to  obtain  mercy  and  help  in  time  of  need, 
Forgive  every  one  his  sins.  Cast  light  upon  the  way  which  each  one  has  to 
walk.  May  every  one  hear  the  voice  of  God  from  day  to  day,  saying  to  him, 
"This  is  the  way  ;  walk  ye  in  it." 

We  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  our  God !  that  thou  wilt  prepare  each  and  every 
one  in  thy  presence,  for  the  events  of  thy  government  in  providence.  Grant  that 
we  may  be  able  to  say,  in  all  circumstances,  "  Thy  will.  Lord,  be  done."  May  we 
seek  more  and  more  to  conform  all  our  thoughts,  and  feelings,  and  plans  to  thy 
divine  and  beneficent  will. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those  who  are  in  affiction  may  be  greatly  sustained 
and  comforted.  In  the  hour  of  their  darkness  may  they  accept  the  angel  of  the 
Lord.  May  he  be  by  them  to  lift  upon  them,  perpetually,  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance. And  we  pray  that  in  surprise,  and  dismay,  and  overwhelming  confusion, 
and  anguish  of  spirit,  thy  still  small  voice  may  be  heard,  consoling  and  comfor- 
ting.    And  grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  as  we  behold  others  that  are  cast,  as  with 


HUMAN  IDEAS  OF  GOD.  123 

rude  shocks  into  adversity,  tliat  we  may  ask  wlietlier  we,  too,  are  prepared  to  fol- 
low the  Lord  through  tribulation  and  through  sorrow.  May  we  gird  up  our 
loins.  May  we  be  prepared  for  whatever  event  thy  providence  has  for  us. .  May 
we  seek  to  fulfill  thy  will,  not  trying  to  find  all  our  happiness  here,  and  to  get 
'our  portion  in  this  world.  Evermore  may  we  look  away  to  the  other  land,  to  the 
better  clime,  to  the  Father's  house  Above.  There  our  portion  is,  and  there  may 
we  have  faith  to  believe  that  it  is,  and  live  as  strangers  and  pilgrims,  seeking  an- 
other and  a  better  country. 

Bless,  we  beseech  of  thee,  all  for  whom  we  should  pray.  Eemember  the  poor, 
the  outcast,  the  ignorant,  the  vicious  and  the  criminal.  We  beseech  of  thee  that 
thou  wilt  reform  all  those  that  are  given  over  to  wickedness.  Raise  up  friends 
for  the  friendless.  Grant  that  the  poor  and  needy  may  have  benefactors  that  shall 
seek  them  out.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  teach  every  one  of  us  to 
esteem  every  man  our  brother,  and  to  make  the  welfare  of  others  also  a  part  of 
our  own  welfare. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  thy  churches  everywhere.  May  all  that  preach 
the  Gospel,  however  divided  among  themselves,  still  have  power  given  them  from 
on  high  to  preach  Christ,  the  sinner's  hope  and  the  Christian's  cornfort.  We  pray 
that  thy  churches  may  be  more  and  more  drawn  together  by  the  things  in  which 
they  agree,  and  less  and  less  repelled  by  malign  passions.  Less  and  less  may 
pride  and  selfishness  teach  men  how  to  use  differences  as  swords  and  spears  of 
war.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  join  thy  people  in  common  labors  of  philan- 
thropy, and  in  the  common  work  of  education.  Everywhere  may  men  begin  to 
see  eye  to  eye,  and  no  longer  be  divided  by  those  hateful  contentions  that  have 
filled  the  world  with  confusion  and  bitterness.  Unite  thy  people  everywhere ;  and 
pour  abroad  throughout  the  land  the  light  of  intelligence  and  true  virtue  and 
piety.  May  the  nations  of  the  eq,rth  see  thy  light  dawning  in  the  east  for  them." 
May  all  those  that  are  struggling  for  their  rights  of  manhood  be  by  thy  good 
providence  made  victorious.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  the  time  may  come  when  no 
man  shall  be  strong  enough  to  oppress  them.  And  we  pray  that  the  liberties  of 
the  people  may  be  known  to  be  hid  in  their  intelligence  and  their  true  virtue. 

Let  thy  kingdom  come  everywhere.  Let  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  heaven.  And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit,  ever- 
more.   Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE    SERMON. 

O  THOU  God  of  time  and  of  eternity !  how  infinitely  safe  are  we  who  put  our 
trust  in  thee.  We  scarcely  care  to  look  forwardfor  to  know  what  is  before  us,  we 
are  so  confident  that  thou  art  infinitely  good  and  loving  and  merciful.  All  that 
we  have  in  us  of  goodness  ;  all  the  shrinking  away  from  cruelty  ;  all  the  hatred 
of  impurity;  all  the  indignation  that  we  have  at  injustice;  all  the  abhorrence 
with  which  we  look  upon  the  animal  developments  of  life — all  these  are  but  inter- 
preting to  us  thy  greater  nature.  We  feel  them  a  little,  though  as  the  ocean  rolls, 
deeper,  broader,  illimitable,  infinite.  O  thou  boundless  Goodness  !  0  thou  infinite 
Grace  !  0  thou  Sweetness  and  Tenderness  past  human  language  or  thought  1  why 


124  HUMAN  IDEAS   OF  GOD. 

sliould  the  heart  go  vagrant,  wandering,  orphaned  and  forlorn,  when  thou  art 
near  to  it  to  teach  the  sorrowful  to  comfort  their  sorrows  in  the  bosom  of  God, 
and  the  unhappy  to  look  up  and  say  Father.  And,  through  that  blessed 
word,  flying  from  their  lips  as  from  an  angel's,  bring  them  into  the  obedience, 
the  faith,  the  love,  and  the  trust  of  that  Father  who  will  not  leave  them  nor  for- 
sake them  all  the  days  of  their  life.  And  finally  bring  us  all  where  clouds, 
and  doubts,  and  darkness,  and  fear,  and  temptation,  and  sin,  and  anguish  there- 
for, are  passed  away  as  a  dream,  into  that  bright  land  of  pm-ity  and  joy,  where  we 
will  praise  thee  forever  and  forever.    Amen. 


VIII. 

The  Gtraciousness  of  Christ. 


THE  GEACIGUSNESS  OF  CHRIST. 

SUNDAY   MORNING,   MAY   2,  1869. 


"  For  which  cause  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren." — Heb.  ii.  11. 


In  the  verses  immediately  preceding,  the  writer  had  set  forth  the 
incarnation,  hmniliation,  suiFering,  and  death  of  Christ  Jesus,  as  an 
indispensable  condition  of  the  great  work  of  lifting  the  race  of  man 
into  the  divine  nature.  Then  he  identifies  and  unites  the  two  parties. 
"  We  see  Jesus,  who  was  made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels  for 
the  sufiering  of  death,  crowned  with  glory  and  honor ;  that  he  by  the 
grace  of  God  should  taste  death  for  every  man.  For  it  became  him 
for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing 
many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their  salvation  perfect 
through  sufferings.  For  both  he  that  sanctifieth  and  they  who  are 
sanctified  are  all  of  one :  for  which  cause  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call 
them  brethren." 

Those  for  whom  Christ  suffered,  for  whom  he  became  perfect 
through  sufiering — that  is,  perfect  as  a  Saviour  (for  as  a  God  he 
needed  no  pei-fection) — are  lifted  into  his  household,  and  are  become 
one  with  him.  This  idea  runs  through  the  whole  N"ew  Testament, 
and  with  an  emphasis  which  our  thoughts  and  reflections,  much  as 
they  may  hover  about  it,  and  aj)prehend  it,  do  not  recognize  with 
any  adequate  fullness. 

Men  are  adopted^  we  are  told.  They  are  of  God's  household. 
And  that  meant  more  in  those  days  than  it  now  means,  by  a  difierence 
of  social  arrangements  in  life.  They  are  sons;  they  are  heirs;  they  are 
Christ's  brethren;  they  are  united  to  him  as  the  branch  to  the  vine — 
and  so  on,  through  every  figure  by  which  unity  and  identity  can 
be  expressed,  and  drawn  from  men's  civic  relations,  from  their  social 
relations,  and  from  nature  itself  in  its  exterior  develoj)ments. 

The  personal  relations  of  God  to  the  human  race  have  given  to  hu- 
man life  a  dignity  and  a  value,  and  to  human  experience  a  moral  worth, 
before  unknown.    All  the  feeble  struggles  and  aspirations,  the  tempta- 

Lesson  :  Heb.  xii.  18-29.    Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  681,  922. 


126  the'  GRAGI0U8NE8S   OF  CHRIST. 

tions  and  the  trials  of  the  race,  their  sorrows  and  svifferings,  that  won- 
derful and  immeasurable  scene  of  pain  and  anguish  which  has  "NVTapped 
the  globe,  in  its  long  history,  as  with  a  mysterious  cloud,  become  now 
intelli^ble,  and  have  a  moral  meaning.  The  whole  creation  has  not 
groaned  and  travailed  in  pain  for  nothing.  There  have  been  labor- 
pains  and  throes  of  spiritual  birth.  And  when  Christ,  as  the  very  expe- 
rienoe  of  sorrow  and  suffering,  identified  himself  with  the  human  race, 
in  suffering  with  them  and  for  them  he  gave  to  the  work  of  sorrow 
•  and  of  suffering  a  moral  meaning  that  it  could  not  have  had  but  for 
this  divine  identification. 

The  mere  human  impulse  could  have  found  special  and  local  rea- 
sons  for  doubting   whether   God   could  be  proud  of  his  disciples. 
There  was  much  in  the  early  condition  of  the  first  Christians  which 
might  lead  them  to  wonder  at  such  a  declaration  as  we  have  read  this 
morning.     It  might  have  led  to  the  feeling  that  there  was  the  best 
reason  why  Christ  should  be  ashamed  of  "his  own — ashamed  in  such  a 
sense  as  to  be  unwilling,  at  least,  to  have  it  known  that  they  belonged 
to  him.    For  their  nationality  was  an  odious  and  unpopular  one.    The 
Jews  were  the  hated  of  all  the  earth.     With  singular  capacity  and 
power,  this  race  has  surpassed  all  others  in  the  art  of  being  well  hated. 
And  they  have  not  got  over  it,  nor  forgotten  the  lore  of  it.     And  it 
was  so  in  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  church.     And  that  the  first 
disciples  should  have  been  called  from  among  the  Jews  is  not  strange, 
if  you  consider  the  moral  training  which  it  seems  to  have  been  the 
mission  of  that  race  of  people  to  establish.    But  if  you  look  at  the  un- 
popularity of  the  Jews,  not  another  nation  could  have  been  selected 
on  the  globe  apparently  less  likely  to  have  been  favored.     And  of 
these  odious  and  unpopular  Jews  the  primitive  disciples  were  from 
among  the  poorest.     They  were  despised  by  their  own  rulers,  and 
were  cast  out  by  their  own  fellow-citizens.     Alike  by  the  Jew  and  by 
the  Gentile  they  were  held  to  be  despicable.     And  it  meant  much,  to 
say  to  such  Christians,  to  disciples  who  had  adopted  a  superstition,  as 
the  Gentile  thought,  who  had  apostatized,  as  the  Jews  thought,  who 
were  the  offsconring  of  the  offscouring,  who  were  the  most  detested 
of  the  nation — it  meant  much  to  say  to  them  that  Christ  was  not 
ashamed  to  call  them  brethren.     It  meant  more  than  it  can  well  mean 
again.     It  had  a  local  and  special  significance.     There  were  reasons, 
however,  why,  from  the  human  side,  one  might  have  exj)ected  that 
the  divine  Being  would  be  ashamed  of  men — that  is,  as  of  creatures 
to  be  made  companionable.      For  you  will  take  notice  that  this  is  not 
simply  the  expression  of  a  feeling.    He  is  not  only  not  ashamed  of  them, 
but  he  is  not  ashamed  of  them  as  brethren.     That  is  the   declaration. 
He  is  not  ashamed  to  make  them  of  his  own  name,  and  household, 
and  lineage,  and  to  be  identified  with  them.     He  is  not  ashamed  of 


THE  GRACI0USNE8S   OF  CHRIST.  127 

them.  There  are  many  persons  that  we  are  not  ashamed  of  as  ac- 
quaintances; but  "we  should  not  wish  to  go  further  than  that.  There 
are  many  that  we  shoukl  not  be  ashamed  of  as  servants  and  laborers 
for  us,  and  with  us ;  but  we  should  not  choose  to  go  f urthet  than 
that.  The  declaration  here,  however,  is,  that  Christ  was  not  ashamed 
to  call  them  brethren.  And  to  call  them  brethren  was  to  unite  them 
to  himself  in  the  most  intimate  relationship. 

Now,  the  absolute  inferiority  of  the  human  soul  and  mind  to  the 
divine  would  lead  one,  in  his  meditations,  to  suppose  that  God  could 
not  well  other  than  be  ashamed.  Adult  companionship  does  not  de- 
mand equality.  It  demands,  however,  some  moral  proportion.  The 
divine  nature  is  illusti-ated  here  in  this — that  the  feeling  of  God  toward 
men,  in  their  inferiority,  is  apj)ai'ently  feeling  without  regard  to  the 
coming  character.  God  sustains  toward  the  whole  human  race,  we 
may  believe,  just  the  feeling  which  a  true  j)arent  sustains  toward  a  new- 
born child,  while  it  is  as  yet  neither  good  nor  bad,  but  is  certainly 
feeble,  weak,  infinitely  out  of  proportion  to  the  i^arent.  That  child  is 
loved  for  no  i-eason  that  you  can  see  in  the  child,  but  for  the  simple 
reason  that  the  soul  has  been  so  made  that  it  does  love  infancy ;  and 
this  shadows  out  the  moral  truth  that  the  divine  nature  is  such  that 
from  its  inherent  character — if  I  might  so  say,  from  its  organic  neces- 
sity— it  loves  beings  mfinitely  lower  upon  the  scale  than  itself.  The 
feeble,  the  ignorant,  the  low — God  loves  them,  and  has  infinite  com- 
passion for  them,  and-is  not  ashamed  of  them. 

But  quite  beyond  and  diiferent  from  this,  are  presumptive  reasons 
why  God  should  be  ashamed — namely,  in  moral  delinquency.  When 
man's  nature  begins  to  unfold  into  character,  it  does  not  unfold  sym- 
metrically; it  does  not  unfold  beautifully.  Not  moral  mferiority 
alone,  is  there ;  but  the  obliquities  of  man's  moral  nature  come  with 
•his  unfolding.  That  which  a  man  proposes  to  himself  as  law,  that 
which  he  assumes  as  his  ideal,  is  perpetually  rebuking  him,  and  sitting 
in  judgment  upon  him.  A  man  who  lives  for  any  purpose  outside  of 
his  OAvn  passions,  for  any  higher  purpose,  must  needs,  in  comparing 
himself  with  his  own  ideal  from  day  to  day,  have  times  of  humiliation 
of  spirit.  And  if,  instead  of  his  own  imperfect  rule  of  life,  he 
takes  the  law  of  God,  the  law  of  purity,  of  truth,  of  holy  love,  and  * 
measures  himself  by  that  law,  which  grows  with  his  own  growth, 
how  does  he  condemn  himself  as  impure,  as  selfish,  as  ignoble,  as  low- 
minded,  as  far  below  the  ])roper  associations  that  belong  to  him  by 
his  heritage. 

It  is  this  that  awakens  in  every  one  of  us,  as  a  part  of  our  Chris- 
tian experience,  a  latent  feeling  that  God,  though  for  Christ's  sake  he 
may  tolerate  us,  is,  after  all,  obliged  to  do  it  with  some  shame  as  well 
as  displeasure. 


128  THE   0RACI0U8NES8   OF  CHRIST. 

This  comes  home  even  after  we  have  learned  that  God  Is  gracious. 
I  take  it  that  there  is  no  Christian  who  has  not  such  fluctuations  of 
experience  as  lead  him  at  times  almost  to  be  unwilling  to  lift  up  his  face 
before  Christ.  We  go  to  Christ,  sometimes,  with  the  same  shamef aced- 
ness  with  which  we  as  children  went  to  our  parents,  when  we  were 
conscious  that  our  conduct  was  such  as  made  them  ashamed  of  us.  At 
such  times  the  child  can  not  look  the  parent  in  the  face,  and  turns  its 
eyes  away,  and  is  scarlet  with  blushes.  The  child,  when  it  knows  it 
has  done  unworthily,  when  it  knows  it  has  done  dishonorable  things, 
imputes  to  the  parent  a  sense  of  shame  in  its  behalf.  And  every 
Christian  has  times  of  despondency,  not  only,  but  of  sober  and  just 
conviction  that  he  has  humbled  himself — not  in  the  noble  sense  of 
humility ;  that  he  has  dishonored  himself,;  and  that  he  has  brought 
scandal  or  dishonor  upon  the  iiame  of  his  Master.  And  in  these  hours 
one  goes  to  Christ  with  the  feeling  that  he  must  be  ashamed  too.  Or 
rather,  we  are  apt  to  stand  aloof,  and  wait  till  the  poignancy  of  the 
feeling  has  passed  away.  And  we  are  ashamed  to  pray,  and  afraid  to 
commune.  As  long  as  the  spirit  of  a  man  accuses  itself  only  of  generic 
transgression,  so  long  he  can  in  some  way  find  alleviation.  But  it  is 
when  we  have  been  overrun,  and  thrown  into  the  gulf  of  iniquitous 
pride,  it  is  when  by  vanity  Ave  have  been  snared,  it  is  when  by  the  feel- 
ings we  have  been  led  on  from  -wickedness  to  wickedness,  it  is  when 
we  have  been  in  the  exercise  of  the  malign  passions,  it  is  when  the 
experience  is  fresh,  it  is  when  conviction  comes  as  by  a  divine  revela- 
tion, and  we  ai-e  pierced  with  thoughts  of  our  own  guiltiness  before 
God,  that  we  can  scarcely  lift  iip  our  head  before  God,  and  are  over- 
whelmed with  the^  thought  that  Christ  must  needs  be  ashamed  of  us. 
And  yet,  it  is  of  just  such  that  Christ  says  he  is  not  ashamed.  He  is 
not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren^  as  we  shall  see. 

The  shame  spoken  of  is  not  simply  a  general  feeling.  It  is  to  be, 
interpreted  by  its  relation  to  the  idea  of  personal  communion.  Christ 
is  not  ashamed  to  call  men  even  brethren.  Conceive  of  the  most  ad- 
vanced and  noble  Christians  that  ever  have  lived  in  this  world — of 
Martyn  and  Brainerd,  as  missionary  martyrs;  of  Fenelon  and  Pascal, 
as  contemplative  Christians ;  and  many  other  names  that  will  be  sug- 
'gested  to  you  severally;  and  compare  these,  not  with  their  own  kind, 
not  with  inferior  natiires,  not  with  the  average  of  the  vulgar  race,  but 
with  the  character  and  condition  of  the  just  made  perfect.  Com- 
pare the  most  peerless  saint  that  walks  among  men  with  your  ideal  of 
the  just  and  the  j^erf ect  before  God.  You  will  perceive  that  while  yet 
on  earth,  while  subject  to  weakness  and  tem^Jtation,  while  under  the  in- 
fluence of  custom  and  habit,  the  veiy  highest  and  best  might  well  be 
looked  upon,  by  Him  who  is  crowned  with  glory  and  honor,  with 
compassion.     "Hardly,"  one  would  say,  "would  God  be  willing  to 


THE   QRACI0USNE8S  OF  CHRIST.  129 

identify  himself  with  any  human  being — with  even  the  highest  and 
be^t."  Yet  so  it  is.  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren.  That 
we  should  nob  be  ashamed  to  call  them  bi-ethren;  that  we  should 
aspii'e  to  do  it ;  that,  conscious  of  their  superiority  to  us,  we  should 
take  it  to  be  an  honor  for  them  to  associate  with  us;  that  we  should 
regard  it  as  a  condescension  for  these  eminent  Christians  to  look  upon 
us  compassionately — that  is  not  surprising ;  but  that  out  of  heaven, 
out  of  the  society  of  the  blessed,  Christ  should  look  down  upon  the 
best  even  that  are  in  the  midst  of  the  toil  and  trouble  of  this  world, 
and  call  them  brethren,  does  excite  some  surprise. 

If  you  consider,  now,  how  far  below  these  ordinary  Christians  live ; 
how  little  there  is  that  enters  into  the  Christian  experience ;  how  little  ex- 
altation there  is  in  the  greatest  number  of  men's  hours ;  how  little  in  com- 
mon piety  thei'e  is  of  heroism ;  how  intermittent  the  best  are ;  how  many 
slumberous  hours  they  have;  how  many  stupid  hours;  what  vast  power 
there  yet  is  in  the  inferior  passions ;  how  the  divine  life  is,  as  it  were,  but, 
in  the  germ ;  how  the  animal  life  is  in  its  very  strength ;  if  you  reflect 
how  far  from  that  ideal  which  Christ  set  before  us  the  ordinary,  average 
Christian  experience  is,  and  how  far  it  is  below  the  eminent  Christian 
exj^erience  to  which  we  have  alluded,  men  might  well  express  surprise 
that  Christ  should  be  willing  to  call  such  Christians  bi-ethren.  And 
yet  he  points  to  those  that  stand  in  the  ordinary  lot  of  life,  the  ordi- 
nary Christian  experience,  and  says,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  them 
brethren."  The  Christian  that  is  tempted,  and  easily  temptable ;  the 
Christian  that  forgets ;  the  Christian  that  is  cowardly,  and  does  not 
dare  to  do  his  duty ;  the  Christian  that  intermits  duty,  or  mixes  his 
experience  with  a  perpetual  right  meaning  and  a  j^erpetual  falling 
below  his  intent ;  the  Christian  that  mars  his  own  peace ;  the  Chris- 
tian into  whose  soul  sally  those  passions  and  lusts  that  disturb,  stir 
up,  soil  his  mind — even  for  him  Christ  has  more  than  compassion. 
He  says  of  such,  "I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren.  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  identify  myself  with  them.  They  may  take  my  name 
as  if  it  were  their  own ;  and  their  names  are  written  on  the  palms 
of  my  hands.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  the  poor,  the  feeble,  the 
staggering  Christians,  brethren." 

Far  below  this  level  there  is  a  throng  who  can  scarcely  be  thought 
to  have  even  a  beginning ;  and  yet,  there  is  a  Single  spark.  There  are 
occasional  impulses  as  if  their  souls  would  turn  toward  God.  It  is  a 
wish,  rather  than  a  desire;  a  desire,  rather  than  a  will  or  choice. 
Tliere  ai-e  hours  and  moods  in  which  these  low-living  Christians  per- 
ceive divine  truth ;  but  they  are  far  away.  Their  summer  is  very 
short,  and  their  winter  is  very  long.  And  we  might  say  of  such, 
"Surely,  it  can  not  be  true  that  we  can  apply  this  declaration  of 
the  Master  to  them,  and  say,  '  Christ  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them 


130  THE  GRACI0U8NE8S   OF  CHRIST. 

Tbrethren.'"  Full  of  inconsistency  are  they ;  full  of  folly  to-day  and 
sorrow  to  morrow — sorrow  that  does  not  save  them.  Joys  and  follies 
mix,  plunging  them  headlong  into  worldliness  of  spirit,  followed  by 
that  impotent  repentance  that  is  sequent  upon  it.  Bold  are  they  for 
the  world,  but  timid  for  righteousness ;  unable  to  leave  the  world,  and 
unwilling  to  leave  Christ ;  in  a  strait ;  suffering ;  rent ;  pulled  now 
one  way,  and  now  another ;  and  hardly  daring  to  say  to  theu'  fellow- 
men,  "  I  am  a  Christian ;"  almost  ashamed  of  their  own  name  because 
their  inconsistency  is  so  great.  Ah  !  can  it  be  that  Christ  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  them  brethren  ?  He  is  not.  He  has  been  made  in 
the  likeness  of  men,  and  has  entered  into  the  full  temptation  of  men, 
that  he  might  know  to  the  uttermost,  and  to  the  very  bottom,  what 
man  suffers.  And  while  he  knows  the  wickedness  of  such  infirmity, 
of  such  an  imperfect  Christian  life,  he  also  knows  how  to  have  com- 
passion upon  it ;  and  he  knows  how  to  save  those  that  put  their  trust 
in  him  to  the  uttermost — not  uttermost  horizontally,  but  uttermost 
vertically.  The  lowest,  poorest,  meanest  of  Christian  attainments  find 
in  Christ  Jesus  a  spirit  that  is  not  ashamed. 

We  do  not  supj)ose  the  teacher  is  ashamed  of  that  promising 
pupil,  that  premium  pupil,  who  is  to  take  off  the  honors.  We  can 
easily  conceive  that  the  teacher  is  not  ashamed  of  the  intermediate 
scholars.  But  there  are  some  dullards  at  the  bottom  that  themselves 
feel  ashamed.  Yet  every  great-hearted  teacher,  who  once  has  under- 
taken to  care  for  his  school,  takes  in  the  bottom  of  the  class  as  really  as 
the  top.  If  a  teacher  be  of  a  large  nature,  he  hovers  with  more  compas- 
sion over  the  dull  and  furthest  behind,  than  over  the  bright,  that 
make  the  easiest  leaps,  and  reach  the  highest.  For  although  the 
uj)per  end  of  the  class  is  the  most  promising,  the  other  is  the  most 
needy.  And  it  is  the  nature  of  love  to  take  care  of  those  that  most 
need  care.  It  is  the  crippled  child  that  is  the  idol  of  the  mother.  It 
is  the  one  that  she  has  worked  the  most  for.  It  is  the  one  that  has 
wrung  the  most  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  It  is  the  one  that  she  has  had 
to  bear  the  most  with.  It  is  the  one  "wath  whom  her  own  nature  is 
most  identified.  It  is  not  the  one  that  is  the  most  royally  endowed. 
And  when  you  address  yourself  to  the  work  of  sympathy  for  the  pur- 
pose of  doing  good  to  a  soul,  then  the  need  of  that  soul  becomes  the 
argument  and  the  measure  of  your  own  compassion ;  and  you  asso- 
ciate yoitrself,  you  identify  yourself,  ultimately,  with  those  that  are 
.  the  most  needy.  Who  could  not,  what'clAld  could  not  take  a  piece  of 
soft  pine,  whose  grain  all  runs  one  way,  and  easily  whittle  it  ?  But 
to  take  a  piece  of  lignum  vitoe,  that  is  almost  like  metal  for  hardness, 
and  whose  fibres  run  in  every  direction,  and  imdertake  to  whittle 
that,  is  a  different  matter.     Tlie  credit  goes  with  the  difliculty.     The 


THE     GRAC10USNE88   OF  CHRIST.  131 

intense  interest  goes  ^^'ith  the  necessity  that  there  has  been  for  forth- 
putting,  and  skill,  and.  jjatience,  and  power. 

I  can  conceive,  if  I  look  at  the  measure  of  the  law  of  God,  that 
there  are  reasons  why  God  should  say  to  the  saints  that  are  emerging 
into  heaven,  "  I  charge  even  you  with  folly,  and  I  am  ashamed  even 
of  you."  But,  after  all,  when  I  consider  that  those  that  are  born  out 
of  earth  into  heaven  have  been  born  of  the  heart-love  of  the  Saviour, 
and  that  he  looks  upon  them  with  the  parental  instinct,  and  not  with 
a  judicial,  and  that  he  deals  with  them  by  paternal  relations,  and  not 
by  magisterial ;  when  I  see  what  that  parental  instinct  does  to  many 
men,  and  how  it  works — ^then  I  think  I  can  perceive  how,  from  the  very 
top  to  the  very  bottom,  Christ  can  say  that  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call 
men  brethren,  for  whom  he  has  suffered,  and  for  whom  he  is  giving 
himself  continually.  He  bears  our  sins  and  carries  our  sorrows,  it  is 
said.  In  other  words,  the  whole  problem  of  unfolding  holiness  out  of 
the  disciplines  of  this  world,  out  of  the  struggles  and  sorrows  of  this 
sinful,  mortal  state,  seems  glorious  to  God. 

TVe  think  of  men  simply  as  criminals.  As  an  officei*,  newly  ap- 
pointed, chases  down  a  thief  or  a  burglar  whom  he  has  kno^vn  nothing 
of  before,  with  whose  crimes  or  career  he  is  ignorant,  so  we  are  ac- 
customed to  suppose  God  deals  with  men,  looking  upon  them  as  crimi- 
nals. But  when  you  reflect  that  God  made  this  earth  on  purpose ; 
that  he  peopled  it  on  purpose;  that  the  very  limitations  of  faculty  and 
the  necessities  of  life  are  part  and  parcel  of  the  original,  organic  crea- 
tion ;  that  God  takes  the  world  in  its  successive  generations,  in  its 
struggles,  in  its  developing  experiences,  and  concerns  himself  with 
the  i^roblem  of  how,  having  peopled  the  earth,  to  bring  men  up 
through  successive  generations,  until  they  are  fit  to  be  saints  in  glory, 
then  you  can  enter  into  a  conception  of  the  word  of  God  which  declares 
that  Christ  is  not  ashamed  of  this  work,  nor  of  those  who  are  in  the 
necessity  of  this  work.     The  world  is  to  him  an  educating  institution. 

Banish  from  your  minds  an  oriental  monarchy.  Banish  the  con- 
ception of  such  glory  as  lies  in  external  appearances  and  external 
adjuvants.  Consider  what  it  is  for  God  to  be  glorious.  It  is  the 
glory  of  pity  unfatliomable.  He  considers  glory  to  lie  in  long-suffer- 
ing love.  It  is  not  that  he  shoots  the  light  of  his  countenance  far  as 
the  sun  shoots  its  beams,  that  makes  God  proud.  It  is  because  he 
knows  how  to  work  for  men  that  are  imgrateful,  that  his  heart  swells 
with  consciousness  of  its  power.  It  is  not  because  he  is  able,  as  it 
were  by  his  hands,  to  span  easily  the  orbs  that  fill  immensity.  It  is 
the  glory  of  magnanimity ;  it  is  the  glory  of  waiting  upon  imperfection 
and  weakness ;  it  is  the  glory  of  pardoning  and  healing,  and  pardon- 
ing again  and  healing  again,  and  still  continuing  to  pardon  and  heal 
to  the  uttermost  and  to  the  end — it  is  this  that  makes  divine  glory. 


132  THE   GRAGIOTTSNESS   OF  CHRIST. 

It  is  the  power  of  God's  heart  to  be  magnanimous  that  makes  him 
think  well  of  himself.     There  lies  his  glory. 

Look,  then,  upon  the  work  to  be  clone  in  this  world.  We  can  un- 
derstand, if  we  consider  it  in  its  entirety,  that  this  world  is  a  school  • 
that  it  is  a  healing  hospital ;  that  it  is  a  training  ground ;  that  the  divine 
jjroblem  is,  how  to  take  the  germ  of  life,  life  in  that  stage  in  which  it 
is  furthest  removed  from  sj)mtuality,  and  bring  it  steadily  up  through 
all  its  transmutations,  from  age  to  age,  until  it  becomes  divine ;  and 
to  do  it  through  suffering,  through  long-suffering,  and  through  pa 
tience;  to  do  it  by  insjiiration ;  to  do  it  by  pain  and  by  joy,  by  sor- 
row and  by  gladness,  by  all  means.  So  to  teach  the  human  soul,  and 
lift  upon  it  the  light  of  divine  glory,  that  it  shall  become  like  God — 
that  is  the  work  to  be  done  in  this  world. 

Christ  is  not  ashamed  of  this  work.  He  is  not  ashamed  of  it  in 
any  of  its  stages  or  steps,  nor  in  any  jDoint  or  period  of  its  develop- 
ment. 

If  any  marvel,  and  say,  "  How  can  purity  be  pleased  with  im- 
pm-ity  ?  How.  can  God  be  pleased  with  that  which  he  must  needs 
look  upon  if  he  becomes  companionable  with  the  human  soul  ?"  you 
know,  and  I  know  how  he  can.  You  know,  and  I  know  that  we  love, 
and  love  dearly,  those  that  not  only  are  full  of  faults,  but  that  are 
rude  and  impure.  Woe  be  to  children  if  it  were  not  possible  to  love 
thmgs  that  are  inferior,  and  poor,  and  bad !  But  every  mother's  heart, 
every  father's  heart,  has  learned  the  divine  lesson — has  learned  this 
law  by  which  to  interpret  the  divine  nature  itself,  in  this — that  we 
learn  to  love  children,  not  so  much  for  what  they  are,  as  for  what 
they  are  to  be.  Over  and  above  that  mere  blind  impulse  by  which 
we  love  infants — the  mere  love  of  offspring — is  companionable  love. 
Every  man  is  conscious  in  regard  to  his  children,  and,  I  trust,  also  in 
a  large  sphere,  in  regard  to  many  of  his  friends,  that  the  love  he 
bears  to  them  is  not  love  of  their  faults,  but  love  in  spite  of  their 
faults.  For  fault  is  only  another  name  for  faculties  imperfectly, 
blindly,  rudely,  stupidly  exercised.  Over-action  or  under-action,  os- 
cillation, fluctuation,  want  of  proportion,  want  of  trainmg  in  every 
part — this  it  is  that  goes  to  make  up  what  is  cviWe^  fault,  or  sin.  And 
we  are  conscious  that  we  love  men,  not  altogether  for  what  they  are 
now,  but  for  what  they  promise — for  the  *hope  that  we  have  of  their 
manhood.  We  see  through  fault  the  coming  virtue.  We  see  through 
blemish  the  dawning  beax^ty.  Now,  in  the  orchard  and  in  the  gardens, 
lying  far  northward,  the  russet  cloak  of  winter  is  beginning  to  unbuckle, 
and  let  out  the  blossoming  buds ;  and  all  the  trees  stand,  not  yet 
beautiful,  but  with  a  faint  color  prophesying  the  coming  of  beauty,  on 
the  tip  of  petal  and  leaf.  We,  looking  upon  them,  see  nothing  but 
the  russet  bro^vn ;  and  yet  we  rejoice  in  the  coming  blossoms  by  an- 


THE   GRACI0U8NE88   OF  CHRIST.  133 

ticipatlon.  And  so  it  is  in  every  household  of  virtuous  and  intelligent 
parentage.  So  is  it,  also,  in  God's  greater  household.  Men  are  looked 
upon  in  all  their  rudeness,  in  all  their  imperfections ;  but  these  are  the 
nascent  states,  the  struggling  states,  the  states  that  are  working  to- 
ward something  higher.  And  there  is  manhood  beyond.  There  is 
something  yet  for  which  the  soul  is  reaching  and  striving.  And 
these  very  battles  and  defeats  which  it  has  here  are  all  of  them  on  the 
way  to  something  higher  and  better.  Men  see  it  in  a  small  way  in 
their  own  households :  God  in  a  larger  way  in  the  whole  race. 

All  the  sufiering  has  not  been  for  nothing.  All  the  conflicts  and 
disorders  have  not  been  for  nothing.  They  have  been  the  creation 
groaning  and  travailing  in  pain  until  now ;  but  on  the  way  to  a  glo- 
rious experience.  "The  creature  was  made  subject  to  vanity,  not 
willingly."  We  were  not  asked  if  we  wanted  to  come  into  such  a 
state  as  this.  We  were  to  be  under  the  companionship,  the  inspira- 
tion, tbe  moulding  power,  of  God;  and  he  is  at  work  in  nations;  and 
through  ages  he  has  been  working ;  and,  looking  upon  his  great  work, 
he  is  not  ashamed  of  it.  He  is  not  ashamed  of  his  scholars — neither 
of  those  in  the  lowest,  the  mtermediate,  or  the  highest  form.  They 
are  all  his.  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren.  And  partly  he 
is  in  communion  with  tfiem.  Not  because  there  is  not  much  that  is 
repulsive  to  a  pure  and  high  nature ;  but  for  his  own  reasons,  which 
he  gives  here  : 

"  As  Christ  also  loved  the  church,  and  gave  himself  for  it ;  that 
he  might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  with  the  washing  of  water  by  the 
word,  that  he  might  present  it  to  himself  a  glorious  church,  not  hav- 
ing spot,  or  wrmkle,  or  any  such  thing ;  but  that  it  should  be  holy, 
and  without  blemish." 

Here  tne  apostle  recognizes  distinctly  that  when  Christ  gives 
himself  to  the  chui'ch,  it  is  not  a  church  perfected,  or  orbed  into 
beauty  and  glory.  He  gives  himself  for  it,-  and  gives  himself  for  it 
that  he  may,  by  his  own  power,  bring  it  into  that  state,  and  present 
it  finally  to  the  throne  of  God  without  wrinkle,  sj^ot,  or  blemish.  It  is 
the  final  result.  It  is  couiDling  the  end  with  the  beginning  that  makes 
it  possible  that  Christ  should  identify  himself  with  struggling  human- 
ity in  this  world.  And  so-  hg  says,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  you 
poorest  ones  brethren." 

Withont  further  unfolding  this  great,  this  wonderful  truth,  which 
will  bear  exploration  in  every  direction,  and  with  growing  sympathy 
and  growing  wonder,  I  ask  whether  any  one  need  fear  to  begin  a  new 
Christian  life  with  such  a  Saviour. 

If  I  dwell  in  Greenland,  and  a  man  says  to  me  in  November,  "  Turn 
the  soil  and  plant  your  seeds,"  I  say,  "  What !  in  November  ?  and  in 
Greenland?   AVhat  garden  can  I  hope  for  under  the  frigid  latitudes  of 


134  THE   OBACI0U8NE88   OF  GHBI8T. 

the  extreme  north?  Why  should  I  throw  away  my  labor  for  the  frost 
to  devour  it  ?"  But  if  I  am  living  under  the  equator ;  if  I  dwell  upou 
the  Magdalena  rivei",  right  under  the  equator,  what  reason  is  there 
why  I  may  not  be  exhorted  to  make  my  garden  and  plant  my 
seeds  ?  The  benign  sun  never  leaves  me.  All  the  time,  day  and 
night,  through  every  week  of  the  whole  year,  it  is  summer  there.  And 
I  need  never  fear  there  to  j^lant  my  seed,  and  rear  fruit  and  flower. 

I  can  conceive  that  a  man  might  be  placed  under  such  cii'cumstances 
that  the  attempt  to  be  good  would  be  so  discouraging,  the  difficulties 
so  great,  help  so  remote,  the  prospects  of  success  so  extremely  du- 
bious, that  he  would  fall  back  appalled,  and  say,  "  I  will  not  attempt 
it."  But  now,  since  all  power  is  given  unto  Christ,  since  he  stands  as 
the  equatorial  sun,  above  all  his  struggling  people,  saying  to  each  and 
all  of  them,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  be  called  your  brethren ;  I  identify 
myself  with  you ;  I  know  your  tears  and  your  temptations ;  I  know 
your  sins  and  your  sufferings ;  I  have  been  like  you ;  I  have  been 
in  circumstances  such  as  you  are  in;  I  have  wi'estled  against 
just  such  difficulties  as  you  have  to  contend  with ;  and  I  have  not 
forgotten  it ;  and  I  have  gone  up  on  high  that  I  might  T\dth  more 
power  and  breadth  of  influence  succor  all  those  that  need  succoring  ; 
and  I  am  still  your  brother,  and  am  not  ashamed  of  you :  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  you  whom  drink  tempts,  if  you  manfully  wage  the  con- 
flict ;  I  am  not  ashamed  of  you  whom  lust  blears,  if  the  purpose  is  still 
strong  and  firm  in  you  to  overcome,  by  the  power  of  God,  the  evil  incli- 
nation ;  I  am  not  ashamed  of  you  whom  avarice  blasts  and  rusts,  if 
there  is  set  up  against  it  the  standard  of  the  Lord,  and  you  are  de- 
termined, whatever  may  be  the  circumstances,  to  overcome  that  power 
which  threatens  to  destroy  the  purity  of  your  soul ;  I  am  not  ashamed 
of  the  dullest,  nor  the  poorest,  nor  the  least  influential " — ^^^w,  is  there 
any  one  that  may  not  begm  a  Christian  life  ?  If  such  is  our  God, 
who  may  not  be  encouraged  to  go  forward  in  the  way  of  truth  and 
holiness  ?  If,  when  his  prayers  go  up,  they  go  into  the  hands  of  such 
a  One ;  if  all  the  invitations  to  a  Christian  life  are  those  that  come 
from  a  Brother's  lips — from  the  lips  of  One  who  is  not  ashamed  of  our 
poorness,  our  vileness,  our  dullness,  or  our  remissness^-then  any  man 
can  be  a  Christian.  Not  that  every  man  has  omnipotent  power  in 
himself ;  for' "  without  me,"  Christ  says,  "you  can  do  nothing."  As 
the  branch  that  is  broken  from  the  vine  withereth,  and  can  not  bear 
fruit,  so  Christ  says,  "Except  ye  abide  in  me,  the  div-ine  life  can  not 
be  nourished  and  fed  in  you."  But  he  also  says,  "  With  me  ye  can 
do  all  things."  And  to  every  one  that  has  sought  by  morality,  that 
has  sought  by  resolutions,  that  has  sought  by  his  own  strength  alone, 
to  live  a  true,  noble  spiritual  life,  I  propose  Jesus,  the  Saviour,  who 
took  upon  himself  the  form  of  a  man,  humbled  himself,  and  became 


TEE   QRACI0U8NESS   OF  CHRIST.  135 

obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross ;  who  has  been  tempt- 
ed m  all  points  like  as  you  are,  yet  without  sin ;  who  is  not  separated 
from  you  because  he  is  invisible ;  and  who  has  gone  on  high  that  he 
may  have  more  j)Ower  in  your  behalf — not  that  he  may  forget 
you.  I  present  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  you,  and  say,  If 
he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  you  brethren,  are  you  ashamed  to  call  him 
brother  ?  Are  you  ashamed  of  such  a  Saviour  as  that,  who  is  not 
ashamed  of  you  ? 

There  is  every  encouragement  for  a  man  to  begin  a  Christian  life, 
however  old  he  is,  or  however  young  ;  however  much  he  may  be  bound 
by  habits,  or  however  free  he  may  be  from  contaminating  habits. 
There  is  a  way  open  in  which  every  man  may  walk,  if  he  take  the 
proffered  help  of  the  Son  of  God. 

Need  any  one  be  discouraged  who  has  begun  to  live  a  Christian  life, 
because  so  often  he  has  failed  and  fallen  into  backsliding  ?  Is  a  true 
pupil  discouraged  because  so  many  of  his  lessons  are  imperfect,  because 
he  has  had  forced  holidays  which  have  broken  up  the  impetus  of  study, 
if  still  the  i^urjjose  to  be  a  student  remains  with  him  ?  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  argimients  of  the  jjast,  let  them  be  forgotten.  Try 
a^ain.  There  are  thousands  of  Christians  who  too  soon  grow  dis- 
couraged,  saying,  "  I  have  j)i'oved  that  I  was  mistaken.  I  have 
proved  that  the  root  of  the  matter,  was  not  in  me.  There  is  no  use ; 
I  have  tried  and  failed."  There  is  all  the  use  in  the  world.  No  man 
ever  fails  until  death  settles  the  great  conflict.  Because  you  have 
begun  and  lagged,  because  you  have  begun  and  stumbled,  because 
you  have  begun  and  gone  back  a  little  way,  do  not  give  up  the  whole 
contest. 

There  is  encouragement,  since  we  have  One  that  is  not  ashamed  of 
us,  in  spite  of  our  defections  and  inferiorities.  Why  should  we  not,  there- 
fore, gird  up  our  loins,  and  take  a  fresh  hold,  with  new  consecration,  on 
the  Christian  life  ?  Will  not  every  day's  experience  give  reason  and 
argument  for  gratitude  to  such  a  Lord  as  this '?  Is  there  not  in  every 
Christian  man's  life  and  experience  reason  for  blessing^  for  thanks, 
for  gratitude,  that  may  «iot  admit  of  expression,  to  him  that  has  re- 
vealed his  Sou  Jesus  Christ,  the  Helpful,  the  Loving,  the  Patient,  the 
Gentle  ? 

I  think  I  have  learned  more  of  the  iiatux*e  of  my  Master  fi'om 
my  bad  than  from  my  good.  We  learn  both  ways.  But  it  is  the 
sense  of  God's  graciousness  that  impresses  me.  When  I  am  penetrated 
with  a  conviction  of  my  own  unworthiness ;  when  my  sins  look  like 
mountains  to  me ;  M^hen  my  heart  sinks  within  me  and  there  comes 
over  the  mountain,  dawnino;  brit^ht  as  the  mornuig:  star,  the  thoiitjht 
of  Christ's  full  mercy  and  endless  patience ;  when  I  have  a  sense  of 
the  great  goodness  of  God,  as  it  is  revealed  in  urgent  contrast  with 


136  THE   GRACI0U8NESS   OF  CHRIST. 

my  own  sense  of  inferiority — then  it  is  that  my  conception  of  God  is 
more  glorious  to  me  than  any  other  experience.  Out  of  all  my  defi- 
ciencies, out  of  my  ten  thousand  blemishes,  there  rises  up  the  view 
of  a  gentle  God. 

Do  you  never  think  what  a  trouble  your  temper  was  to  your  moth- 
er ?  Do  you  never  think,  now  that  she  is  gone,  what  a  wayward  child 
you  were  ?  Do  you  never  think  how  beautiful  she  seems  to  you  in 
the  retrospect,  as  she  used  to  stand  so  quiet,  so  loving,  waiting  for  you 
to  come  round  to  your  better  demeanor  ?  And  when  you  think  back, 
of  your  mother,  do  not  you  find  that  those  points  where  you  were 
the  most  diffidult  to  get  along  with  are  the  points  in  which  you  see 
that  her  character  was  sweetest,  most  radiant,  most  beauteous  ?  From 
the  sinfulness  of  my  nature  I  think  I  get  the  noblest  views  of  God,  his 
patience,  his  forgiving  Ipve,  his  kindness,  his  generosity,  and  that 
great-heartedness  by  which,  looking  upon  my  transgression,  he  says 
to  me,  "  Be  not  discouraged  ;  try  again ;  I  am  not  ashamed  to  call  you 
brother."  And  so  he  reaches  down  the  hand  of  hie  heart  to  my  sinful 
heart,  and  not  only  grants  me  forgiveness,  but  fills  me  with  zeal  and 
holy  purpose.  And  God  grant  that  this  view  may  be  stronger  and 
stronger  till  I  go  home,  to  return  love  for  love  ;  till  I  stand  in  Zion 
and  see  God.  Then  temptation  shall  die  forever  from  the  light  of 
Ms  countenance.  Then,  when  once  I  am  there,  there  shall  be  no  more 
selfishness,  no  more  temptation,  and  no  more  fear,  but  perfect  love 
which  casts  out  these  things. 

You,  my  dear  Christian  friends,*  who  have  just  united  yourselves 
with  God's  people — in  the  morning  of  your  life  most  of  you — have  en- 
tered a  service  the  most  blessed  that  can  happen  to  the  human  heart 
in  this  world.  Do  not  be  discouraged  because  you  find  difficulties 
You  are  not  saints.  I  have  not  encouraged  you  to  join  this  church 
because  I  thought  you  were  saints.  I  have  not  looked  for  eminence 
of  experience,  but  for  beginnings  of  experience.  I  have  looked  for 
sproutings — not  for  blossoms  or  fruit.  You  have  entered  upon  a  ser- 
vice in  which  your  Master  is  gentler  than  your  parents  could  be — a 
benignant  Saviom-,  a  magnanimous  Savioui>  an  ever-present  Saviour, 
who  is  not  ashamed  of  you,  and  will  not  be,  whatever  you  do,  or 
wherever  you  go.  But  oh !  if  anywhere  the  snare  entangles  your 
feet ;  if  the  net  is  thrown  over  you  ;  if  you  do  wrong,  and  fall  utter- 
ly prostrate,  remember,  in  your  deepest  penitence  and  anguish  of  sor- 
row, to  hear  the  voice  saying  still,  "  My  child,  I  am  not  ashamed  of 
you."  If  you  can  not  look  in  the  face  of  man,  look  up  into  the  face  of 
God.  There  is  more  mercy  there  than  there  is  in  all  the  world  beside. 

Never  forget  that  you  are  the  children  of  divine  love.     It  is  love 

*  Of  those  to  whom  these  remarks  were  addressed,  thirteen  were  received  into  the  church  by 
letter,  acd  fijfty-two  on  profession  of  their  faith. 


TEE  QRAClOUSNESa   OF  CHRIST.  137 

that  bore  you.  It  is  love  that  has  brought  you  to  these  moods  of  peni- 
tence, and  these  drawings  toward  a  better  life.  It  is  love  that  will 
tate  care  of  you.  It  is  love  better  than  the  father's,  better  than  the 
mother's,  better  than  all  earthly  love.  An^  to  the  great  and  unfailing 
store  of  that  love  with  which  the  earth  is  embosomed,  I  commit  you, 
with  the  faith  that  you  will  persevere  to  the  end,  and  that  you  will 
finally  be  saved. 

After  the  blessing  is  pronounced,  we  shall — a  great  many  of  us 
for  the  first  time  in  our  lives — unite  joyfully  together  in  participating 
in  these  emblems  of  the  Saviour ;  and  for  my  life,  I  can  not,  and  never 
could,  be  sorry  in  taking  them.  I  can  not  help  thinking  of  Christ 
as  alive — not  as  dead.  Though  I  think  back,  in  the  presence  of  these 
ceremonials,  to  his  passion  and  death,  yet  there  is  tliat  in  my  nature  and. 
heart  which  always  bounds  from  the  darkness  toward,  the  light, 
from  the  defeat  toward  the  triumph.  And  I  rejoice  when  I  take  the 
broken  body,  because  I  think  what  that  broken  body  has  done.  It 
has  broken  the  power  of  sin,  it  has  broken  the  poVer  of  the  devil, 
it  has  broken  the  power  of  evil,  in  this  world.  That  blood  is  shed  ; 
but  oh !  I  do  not  think  of  the  shedding.  I  think  of  the  cleansinsc- 
which  it  has  wrought  in  every  age,  in  so  many  nations,  and  of  the 
power  that  it  is  yet  to  exert  throughout  all  the  world.  Come,  Chris- 
tian brethren,  all  of  you,  with  us,  to-day.  Come  every  heart,  whether 
belonging  to  the  church  or  not,  that  belongs  to  Christ,  "and  that,  in 
the  consciousness  of  its  own  weakness  and  want,  is  willing  to  fly  to 
Christ.  To  you  belongs  this  service.  To  you  belong  its  privileges. 
And  I  cordially  invite  you — every  one  who  is  a  child  of  Christ — 
without  ecclesiastical  condition,  and  on  this  general  ground.  All  that 
love  the  Loi-d  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  and  in  truth,  and  are  endea- 
voi'ing  to  follow  him,  are  our  brethren.  Come,  join  with  us  in  the 
celebration  of  his  dying  love. 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMOIf. 

O  THOU  blessed  God  !  tliougli  tliovi  art  not  revealed  to  our  outward  eje,  and 
we  see  no  form  such  as  men  wear,  yet  tliou  art  present,  and  thou  makest  thyself 
known  to  the  hidden  man.  Thou  holdest  conimunion  with  our  spirit.  We  know 
that  thou  art  with  us.  And  all  that  is  ^ood  in  us,  and  all  that  is  loving,  leaps  up 
and  calls  thee  Father.  We  rejoice  in  the  benedictions  of  the  past.  We  rejoice 
in  the  promises  that  hanty  as  clouds  over  the  future,  raining  down  abundantly  of 
thy  goodness  and  of  thy  mercy.  We  believe  in  thee,  and  trust  thee  utterly,  be- 
cause thou  art  God,  and  changest  not,  and  art  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
forever,  immutable  in  holiness,  immutable  in  goodness,  and  in  love.  We  re- 
joice that  thou  wilt  not  suffer  transgression  upon  us,  but  wilt  chastise  it.  We 
rejoice  that  thou  wilt  not  suffer  selfishness  to  rarage  the  world,  but  hast  set  up 
against  it  in  the  soul  itself  thine  everlasting  law.  We  rejoice  that  th<!  course  of 
thine  administration,  and  thy  providential  government,  make  it  plain  to  men 
that  thou  dost  love  purity,  and  truth,  and  fidelity,  and  gentleness,  and  meekness, 
and  mercy,  and  love.  We  thank  thee  that  men  are  not  permitted  to  be%appy 
who'  transgress  thy  law ;  that  thou  art  bringing  them  back  by  thy  punishments 


138  THE   GRAC10U8NE88   OF  CHRIST. 

and  thy  penalties  to  tlieir  obedience  again  ;  and  that  thou  wilt  yet  fashion  them 
into  thine  own  perfect  image,  and  gather  them,  throiagh  long  ages,  and  in  multi- 
tudes beyond  number,  into  the  kingdom  of  the  heavenly  Father. 

We  thank  thee  for  the  church  upon  the  earth — the  brotherhood  of  those  that  are 
seeking  a  common  land  and  a  common  cause.  We  thank  thee  that  for  so  many 
ages  there  have  been  such  victories  in  the  church,  and  such  trophies  of  thy  grace. 
We  thank  thee  that  the  church  has  been  a  harbor  and  a  shelter  here,  that  so 
many  have  found  it  a  refuge  and  a  comfort,  and  that  so  many  still  are  flocking  to 
it.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  it  may  prove  to  every  one  of  them  a  school  and  a  sanc- 
tuary. May  every  one  find  here  that  communion,  those  inspirations,  those  incite- 
ments to  duty,  and  those  consolations,  by  which  their  Christian  life  shall  be  fed. 
And  may  the  memory  of  this  sacred  hour  bless  every  one  who  has  been  more 
immediately  concerned  in  it.  May  none,  wandering  from  their  present  vows  and 
intentions,  forsake  the  service  of  Him  who  loved  them,  and  gave  himself  for 
them.  And  more  and  more  may  the  light  dawn  upon  each  one  of  them.  At 
once  may  they  consecrate  their  life  to  the  service  of  Christ,  and  walk  in  the  way  of 
beneficence,  living  not  for  themselves,  but  for  others.  May  they  go  forth  light 
bearers,  and  may  they  show  the  way  to  others  round  about  them. 

We  thank  thee  for  all  these  histories  so  far  consummated.  For  some,  parents 
have  prayed  long,  and  died  without  the  sight.  But  they  behold  from  heaven,  to- 
day, the  graciousness  of  God  toward  their  beloved  children.  To-day,  though  lar 
away,  many  remember  what  shall  transpire  in  the  sanctuary,  and  are  uttering 
thanksgiving  and  praise  over  tlieir  children  that  were  lost,  but  are  found  again.  To- 
day, in  the  presence  of  many,  their  children  have  risen  up,  and  are  doubly  united 
to  them  now,  by* the  ties  of  divine  love,  as  well  as  by  the  alfections  of  earth. 
How  many  there  are  that  have  been  wanderers  indeed!  Some  of  them  have 
gone  far  from  God  and  from  virtue,  but  they  are  now  brought  back  again,  and 
cleansed  and  joined  to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  their  souls.  How  many 
there  are  that  have  looked  forward  in  the  hope  that  yet,  by  and  by,  divine  grace 
might  wrestle  with  them  !  But  now  thou  hast  found  them  and  comforted  them. 
Thou  art  comforting  and  giving  rest,  indeed,  to  some  who  have  been  long  soul- 
tossed,  and  at  unrest. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord !  that  thou  wilt  accept  our  thanks  for  each 
one  of  them,  'and  for  them  all,  and  for  their  parents,  and  for  their  dear  friends, 
that  rejoice  in  their  present  joy,  and  pray  that  this  may  be  but  the  beginning,  the 
dawn  of  that  light  which  shall  shine  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  God !  that  thou  wilt  draw  many  others  in.  If  there 
be  any  that  are  storm-tossed  and  weary — especially  any  that  are  travelers,  sick, 
forlorn,  Avithout  friends  in  a  friendless  land — oh  !  that  thou  wouldst  bring  them 
to  thyself;  to  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  to  the  love  and  fellowship  of 
Christ's  church  on  earth. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  the  labors  of  parents  in  behalf  of  their  house- 
holds may  be  greatly  blessed  of  God.  May  their  children  be  early  brought  into 
the  true  taith.  May  they  learn,  with  the  knowledge  of  how  to  love  their  father 
and  mother,  how  to  exercise  greater  love  toward  the  Redeemer.  And  we  beseech 
of  thee  that  thou  wilt  fill  the  families  and  households  of  this  church  with  thy 
presence. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  be  with  all  our  beloved  brethren  wherever  they  are. 
Go  with  those  that  are  scattered  through  the  summer  up  and  down  throughout 
the  laud,  and  over  the  sea,  and  far  away.  Grant  that  everywhere  they  may  be, 
if  not  within  the  sound  of  the  bell  of  the  sanctuary,  yet  within  the  sound  of  thy 
spirit.  May  they  hear  thy  voice.  May  it  be  a  sanctuary  wherever  thou  dost  meet 
their  souls.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  of  us,  as  we  are  journeying  with 
various  oppressions,  and  vicissitudes,  and  sufferings,  and  losses,  and  bereave- 
ments, or  with  added  prosperity,  and  joys,  and  triumphs,  we  may  neither  be  dis- 
couraged by  our  trouble,  nor  over-elated  i;y  our  prosperity.  May  we  remember, 
in  every  joy,  the  better  joys;  and  in  every  sorrow,  the  sorrowless  land.  In  all 
our  trouble  here,  may  we  understand  that  it  is  the  wind  of  God  to  bring  us  safely 
across  the  voyage.  May  we  take  heart,  and  play  the  part  of  men,  doing  well 
and  faithfully  our  work  on  earih,  and  living  in  a  tender  and  growing  faith  of  im- 
mortality beyond  the  grave.  And  there  gather  us  with  the  general  assembly 
and  with  the  church  of  the  first-born,  to  sin  no  more,  and  therefore  no  ;nore  to 
sorrow ;  to  go  out  no  more  wanderers,  to  be  at  home,  forever  present  with  the 
Lord.* 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the'praise.  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


IX. 

The  Evils  of  Anxious  Forethought. 


EVILS  OF  ANXIOUS  FOKETHOUGHT. 


SUNDAY    MORNING,    MAY   9,  1869. 


"  Which  of  you,  by  taking  thought,  can  add  one  cubit  to  his  stature?" — Matt. 
vi.  27. 


A  LIFE  without  forethought  or  plan  must  be  weak  and  fruitless ;  and 
if  a  whole  cofnmunity  so  live,  they  are  savage,  sensuous,  and  degraded. 
There  can  be  no  civilization  without  enterprise,  and  no  enterprise 
without  plans  for  the  future.  A  wise  foresight  is  the  only  way  of 
making  our  days  long ;  for  the  present  takes  its  dimensions  from  the 
reach  forward  which  our  minds  take.  The  diameter  of  each  day  is 
measured  by  the  sti'etch  of  thought — not  by  the  rising  and  setting  of 
the  sun.  The  want  of  care  and  consideration  is  the  fault  of  the 
savage  state.  Too  great  a  sti'ess  of  thought,  and  too  anxious  a  fore- 
sight, is  the  fault  of  civilized  life. 

It  was  not  against  the  forecast  of  wise  and  enterprising  industry 
that  our  Saviour  spoke,  but  against  an  outlook  into  the  future  which 
wears  and  frets  the  soul. 

Looking  forward  is  not  wrong ;  but  a  painful  f  orelooking  is.  Pain 
and  sorrow  in  a  moderate  degree  are  salutary ;  but  they  must  be  derived 
from  the  present.  The  futux-e  belongs  to  hope,  and  not  to  fear.  No 
man  has  a  right  to  convert  the  outlying  future  into  a  storm-ground, 
and  draw  in  upon  himself  its  chills  and  blasts.  It  does  no  good.  It 
does  much  harm.  It  is  acting  from  illusions,  and  not  from  sober 
realities.  It  is  putting  one's  self  under  the  influence  of  a  disordered 
imagination.  It  is  a  j)rocess  which  breeds  a  malign  faith.  The  past 
belongs  to  Gratitude  and  Regret ;  the  present  to  Contentment  and 
Work ;  the  future  to  Hope  and  Trust. 

Our  Lord's  question,  which  we  have  taken  for  our  text,  was  not  put 
in  a  spirit  of  humor;  yet  in  its  nature  it  is  exquisitely  though  gravely 
humorous.  He  lays  down,  first,  the  command  in  the  25th  verse — 
"  Take  no  thought  for  your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall 
drink ;  nor  yet  for  your  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on." 

This  is  briefly  argued :  first,  from  the  intrinsic  superiority  of  the 
spirit  or  the  soul  to  its  material  surroundings.     We  ought  not  to  sac* 

Lesson  :  Matt.  vi.  19-34.  Htmks  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  397,  784. 


140  EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT. 

rifice  the  soul's  happiness  for  the  sake  of  any  material  good  that  sur- 
rounds us.  "  Is  not,"  said  the  Master,  "  the  life  more  than  meat,  and 
the  body  than  raiment  ?"  "Will  you  distm-b  the  one,  fever  it,  and  de- 
stroy the  satisfaction  of  the  other,  by  seeking  for.  these  external  com- 
forts ?  Is  not  the  soul's  quiet  happiness  and  trust  of  more  value  than 
pleasing  bodily  conditions?  Why  sacrifice  its  contentment  for  the 
sake  of  pleasing  the  senses,  which  ought  to  be  our  servants  ? 

Moreover,  it  is  needless,  our  Master  argues,  inasmuch  as  all  men 
stand  in  such  an  order  of  nature  that  they  are  sure  to  be  supplied 
by  an  easy  and  moderate  exertion  of  their  powers.  God's  provision 
in  natural  law  for  the  wants  of  living  creatures  is  so  ample,  and  so 
easily  availed  of,  that  even  birds  know  how  to  get  their  food.  Lower 
yet  are  flowers.  Birds  know  how  to  fly.  Flowers  do  not.  Birds  have 
some  slight  provision.  Flowers  none.  "  They  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin."  Yet  God  feeds  one,  and  royally  robes  the  other.  How?  By- 
direct  volition  ?  That  does  not  necessarily  follow.  The  nrftural  course 
of  law  is  such  that  there  is  ample  provision  and  bounty  for  all  kinds 
of  beings  in  creation ;  and  it  is  so  easily  accessible  that  even  birds,  and 
lower  yet,  flowers  themselves,  know  how  to  get  what  they  want  out  of 
natural  law,  without  care,  and  without  anxious  thought.  "  Are  ye 
not  much  bettei',"  said  the  Saviour,  "  than  they  ?"  In  several  senses 
better :  better  as  being  higher  in  the  scale,  nearer  God,  and  so,  more  near 
to  the  companionship  and  sympathy  of  God,  and  therefore  less  likely 
to  be  neglected  and  to  suffer.  Better,  also,  than  birds  and  flowers,  as 
being  better  able  to  shake  down,  as  it  were,  from  the  boughs  of  natural 
y  law,  all  the  fruit  that  the  day  wants.  A  mpn  ought  to  be  ashamed  if  a 
bird  can  get  a  living,  and  he  can  not !  What  is  the  use  of  all  the  dif- 
ference between  a  bird  and  a  man,  if  it  only  leads  to  vexations  ? 

But,  next,  it  is  tersely  argued  that  anxiety  does  no  good.  "  Which 
of  you,  by  taking  thought,  can  add  one  cubit  to  his  stature  ?"  No  man 
can  picture  to  himself  this  illustration  without  a  smile,  that  knows  how 
to  smile  at  all.  Imagine  a-  short  man,  dissatisfied  with  his  shortness, 
trying  to  grow  tall  by  fretting  about  it,  ambitiously  swelling,  and  say- 
ing, "  I  am  but  five  feet  high ;  how  on  earth  shall  I  get  to  be  six  feet  ?" 
Will  it  do  any  good  ?  Is  there  any  thing  more  j^reposterous  ?  And 
yet  that  is  the  very  figure  which  our  Saviour  employs  in  respect  to 
the  conduct  which  you  yourselves  are  guilty  of  every  day.  Which 
of  you,  by  taking  thought,  can  add  one  inch,  a  pai'ticle,  to  his  stature  ? 
There  is  no  relation  between  anxiety  and  the  result  which  you  seek  to 
obtain, 

I  am  not  fond  of  finding  fault  with  the  authorized  version  of  the 
Bible ;  but  there  are  two  passages  of  importance  which  are  either  lost  or 
much  diminished  in  force,  from  the  fading  out  of  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  originally  much  stronger  than  in  our  authorized  version.     One 


EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FOBETHOTTGHT.  141 

case  is,  the  use  of  the  word  "  charity,"  as  in  the  immortal  thirteentli  of 
Corinthians,  wliere  it  should  have  been  love.  The  other  case  is  in  the 
text — "  thought,"  instead  of  anxiety.  In  the  time  of  our  translation, 
"  thought"  was  used  to  signify  excess  of  thought ;  as  where  Bacon  says, 
"  Queen  Catharine  Parr  died  of  thought" — that  is  to  say,  of  anxious, 
exciting  thought ;  or,  to  give  it  another  and  popular  form,  broken- 
hearted. When  we  speak  of  a  broken  heart,  we  mean  a  person  that 
has  used  up  his  life  by  excessive  feeling  or  excessive  excitement.  The 
word  "  thought"  constantly  misleads,  because  in  our  time  it  signifies 
a  normal  and  indispensable  intellectual  process.  It  is  the  first  product 
of  reason ;  and  reason  is  the  first  product  of  a  true  religion.  But  in 
our  text,  and  in  that  wliole  passage,  the  Saviour  is  not  speaking  of 
thought  as  we  understand  it,  but  of  exacerbating  thought,  of  thought 
that  is  hot,  that  dries  u^)  the  fountains  of  life. 

Every  man  is  better  for  thinking  forward  up  to  the  line  of  painf ul- 
ness ;  but  the  moment  that  f orelooking  touches  the  experience  of  fret 
and  suffering,  it  ceases  to  be  beneficial.  Thinking  is  right ;  painful 
thinking  is  not.     Forelooking  is  right ;  anxious  f  orelooking  is  not. 

A  wise  enterprise,  which  to-day  arranges  for  to-morrow,  and  for 
next  week,  and  for  next  year ;  which  reckons ;  which  makes  the  present 
day  as  long  and  as  large  as  all  coming  time — that  is  not  unwise ; 
but  looking  forward  to  the  least  thing  with  grinding  anxiety,  with 
gloom  and  suffering,  is  not  right.     It  is  not  profitable,  either. 

The  faculties  which  produce  this  suffering,  and  the  circumstances 
mider  which  it  is  produced,  make  anxiety  for  the  future  unprofitable ; 
and  that,  too,  in  proportion  as  it  is  painful.  In  so  far  as  the  human 
mind  has  any  control  and  management  of  things  m  the  future — and  it 
has  much — it  works  more  sui-ely  and  more  wisely  when  it  works  plea- 
santly than  when  it  works  painfully.  And  this  is  true  of  every  faculty. 
The  painful  working  of  any  faculty  is  just  so  far  diseased.  The  pleas- 
urable working  of  any  faculty  is  just  so  far  healthy.  The  man  that 
works  so  that  he  has  pain  and  sorrow  in  it,  may  accomplish  some- 
thing, but  he  is  using  his  tools  to  the  poorest  advantage.  The  man  who 
works  so  that  he  does  not  know  that  it  is  work,  and  sings,  and  is  full 
of  cheer,  is  using  his  mind  in  its  highest  and  most  remunerative  way. 

The  painf  uln'ess  in  the  case  of  those  who  f  orelook  is  an  indication  of 
one  of  two  things — either  that  the  mind  is  carried  up  beyond  its  nor- 
mal condition,  and  so  is  diseased,  sick,  for  the  time  being ;  or  that  it 
is  acting  under  the  undue  pi'essure  of  malign  feelings.  In  either  case 
the  judgment  is  shaken,  and  the  mind  is  unfitted  to  deal  with  affairs. 
When  the  mind  is  excited  to  that  degree  that  its  operations  are  pain- 
ful, it  is  sick,  its  functions  are  not  wholesome,  and  its  results  are  not 
to  be  trusted.  The  whole  siiccess  of  life  depends  upon  the  whole- 
someness  of  a  man's  mind.     The  ship-mast^  that  navigates  the  sea 


142  EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT. 

beyond  the  sight  of  land,  is  dependent  npon  the  correctness  of  his  chro- 
nometer and  his  compass.  If  the  instruments  of  navigation  fail  him, 
every  thing  fails  him.  And  what  these  are  to  navigation  on  the  sea, 
and  in  a  ship,  the  human  mind  is  to  our  navigation  of  life.  And  any 
thing  that  disturbs  the  balance  of  the  mind  so  far  invalidates  the 
whole  voyage  of  life. 

Accurate  perceptions ;  the  perception  of  our  comprehensive  rela- 
tions ;  a  just  judgment  of  the  forces  which  are  acting  on  us,  and  which 
we  are  employing  upon  others ;  a  nice  sense  of  human  life — it  is  these 
things  that  determine  daily  wisdom.  It  is  justness  in  the  use  of  our 
perceptive  reason,  and  in  the  use  of  our  reflective  reason.  It  is  what 
is  called  "  common  sense" — by  which  I  understand  a  just  judgment 
in  common  things.  Where  a  man  has  a  mind  which  is  so  sensitive 
and  so  accurate  that  it  is  perpetually  played  amidst  familiar  and  dai- 
ly events,  and  always  with  a  wise  gauge  and  measurement  and  deci- 
sion, we  say  that  he  has  common  sense — that  is,  good  sense — in  respect 
to  multifarious,  minute,  common  things.  There  are  a  great  many  men 
who  can  judge  accurately  in  regard  to  comprehensive  things,  where 
they  can  set  a  problem  and  work  it  out.  They  have  uncommon  sense. 
It  is  said  that  they  are  philosophers,  or  men  of  genius,  or  what  not. 
Frequently  we  hear  it  said  of  such  men,  that  they  have  great  sense ; 
but  it  is  philosophic  or  artistic  sense,  and  not  common  sense.  But  a 
man  who  has  the  faculty  of  judging  of  things  accurately,  on  every  side, 
instantly,  and  in  all  their  varying  phases  has  justness  of  perception 
and  judgment  in  regard  to  the  million  little  things  which  are  constantly 
occurring  to  him — he  has  the  best  of  sense — common  sense.  If  a  man 
can  have  only  one  kind  of  sense,  let  him  have  common  sense.  If  he 
has  that  and  uncommon  sense  too,  he  is  a  great  deal  better  off. 

Although  cake  is  decidedly  better  than  bread,  once  in  a  while,  yet 
for  every  day  eating  bread  is  a  great  deal  better  than  cake.  God  never 
made  any  thing  that  was  so  good  to  drink  all  the  time  as  cold  water ; 
and  the  evidence  of  this  is,  that  every  man  washes  his  mouth  out  with 
water,  whatever  else  he  drinks.  If  it  be  milk,  if  it  be  any  of  the  long 
catalogue  of  artificial  drinks,  still  the  best  taste  for  all  the  time  is  no 
taste  at  all,  in  the  mouth.     Water  gives  that,  and  nothing  else  does. 

And  so  it  is  in  regard  to  the  economies  of  the  mind.  The  best 
sense  for  all  work  and  for  all  time  is  common  sense.  Discrimination, 
quick  judgment,  just  judgment,  in  minute  things,  operating  all  the 
time — that  is  the  best. 

Now,  it  is  just  this  thought,  this  care,  this  anxiety,  this  burden- 
some f orelooking  and  disturbanQe,  which  makes  it  impossible  for  a 
man  to  judge  accurately  in  regard  to  events  as  an  intelligent  creature. 
This  spu-it  of  excessive  emotion,  this  painful  f orelooking,  distorts,  mag- 
nifies, blurs,  and  blots  the  future.    It  sets  facts  all  atremble  with  mere 


EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FOBETHOUaHT.  143 

imagination  before  us.  It  creates  jDliantoms  and  illusions.  It  sup- 
presses some  tilings,  and  exaggerates  others.  When  we  look  upon 
facts,  upon  things,  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  exaggerate  them,  because  to 
our  senses  the  lines  of  matter  and  their  proportions  and  number  bear 
almost  unchangeable  relation.  The  brain  is  indeed  very  highly  dis- 
organized when  things  do  not  look  to  the  senses  as  they  arc.  But 
things  may  be  immensely  exaggerated  and  distorted  by  an  over- 
heated mind.  Anxiety  about  the  future,  arising  from  malign  feel- 
ings, also  is  joined  closely  to  this  disturbance.  By  malign  feelings^ 
I  mean  undue  pride,  vanity,  avarice,  and  selfishness;  and  if  you 
take  an  estimate  of  those  things  in  the  future  which  trouble  you, 
I  think  you  will  find  that  ninety-nine  parts  in  a  hundred,  are 
things  anticipated,  or  desired,  or  dreaded,  on  account  of  vanity,  or 
selfishness,  or  avarice,  or  some  malign  passion.  If  you  will  take  an 
account  of  the  vexations  that  over-anxiety  of  the  future  brings  to  you, 
you  will  find  that  they  almost  all  spring  from  malign  passions. 

Microscopists  are  occuj^ied  now  in  analyzing  dust ;  and  it  is  found 
that  the  dust  that  settles  on  your  pillow  on  a  summer  day  is  made  up 
of  threads  of  wool,  and  bits  of  silk,  and  fragments  of  cotton,  and 
specks  of  horn,  and  all  manner  of  soils.  Little  rubbings  off  of  about 
every  thing  there  is  in  creation  get  into  the^dust.  It  is  a  microcosm, 
a  specimen,  of  about  every  thing  there  is  in  your  neighborhood,  at  any 
rate. 

And  so,  the  vexations  that  come  to  us  from  looking  down  into  the 
future,  are  dust  rubbed  off,  mostly  from  vanity,  from  pride,  from  ava- 
rice, from  appetite,  from  the  various  malign  feelings.  >  If  you  take 
these  thousand  little  frets  that  thought  broods,  and  that  make  you  un- 
haj^py ;  if  you  lay  aside  physical  causes,  and  come  to  mental,  you  will 
find  that  most  of  them  are  selfish,  and  so  are  malign.  And  when  a 
man  broods  anxiously,  looking  down  into  the  future,  two  things  take 
place  :  first,  he  loses  the  use  of  the  correct  instrument,  of  his  mind, 
by  this  over-heating ;  and  secondly,  he  brings  his  mind  under  the  influ- 
ence of  these  malign  feelings,  which  seem  to  rise  up  and  take  posses- 
sion of  that  great  untrodden  pasture-ground  of  the  future.  His  mind 
is  brought  insidiously  under  the  dominion  of  these  tilings. 

In  a  critical  time  the  man  of  the  household  goes  to  the  wmdow, 
and  looks  out,  and  says,  "  Who  can  tell  what  those  signs  mean  on  the 
horizon?  Who  can  tell  what  that  banner  means?  Who  can  tell 
whal  armed  host  that  is  that  is  coming  ?"  And  thousands  of  men  say 
to  Fear,  "  Go,  sit  in  the  window  and  Avatch ;"  and  Fear,  sitting  in  the 
soul's  window,  and  looking  far  down  into  the  future,  says,  "  I  see  some- 
thing there."  "  What  is  it  ?"  says  Avarice.  "  Loss  of  money — bank- 
ruptcy— trouble  is  coming."  "  O  Lord  !  O  Lord  !  Trouble  in  the 
future.     It  is  all  trouble.     Man  is  born  to  scwrow  as  the  sparks  fly  up- 


144  EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUOHT. 

■ward,  A  <^ew  dajs,  and  full  of  trouble.  O  trouble !  trouble !" 
And  for  day.i  and  weeks  the  man  goes  round  crying,  "  Trouble  !  Trou- 
ble !"  What  is  it  ?  Money.  Nothing  in  the  world  .but  ru  aney.  It  is 
avarice  that  has  made  all  that  fuss  about  the  future — all  that  dust.  It 
was  because  it  was  not  golden  dust  that  the  man  was  troubled. 

Fear  still  sits  in  the  window.  "  What  seest  thou  ?"  says  Vanity. 
"  Whisperings  are  abroad,"  says  Fear.  "  Men  are  pointing  at  you — or 
they  will,  as  soon  as  you  come  to  a  point  of  observation."  "  O  my 
good  name  !"  says  the  man.  "  All  that  I  have  done ;  all  that  I  have 
laid  up — what  will  become  of  that  ?  Where  is  my  reputation  going  ? 
What  will  become  of  me  when  I  lose  it,  and  when  folks  turn  away 
from  me  ?  O  trouble  !  trouble  ! — it  is  coming !"  What  is  it  ?  Fear  is 
sitting  in  the  window  of  the  soul,  and  looking  into  the  future,  and  in- 
terpretmg  the  signs  thereof  to  the  love  of  approbation  m  its  coarsest 
and  lowest  condition. 

Fear  still  sits  looking  into  the  future,  and  Pride,  coming  up,  says, 
"  What  is  it  that  you  see  ?"  "  I  see,"  says  Fear  "  your  castle  robbed. 
I  see  you  toppled  down  from  your  eminence.  I  see  you  under  base 
men's  feet.  I  see  you  weakened.  I  see  you  disesteemed.  I  see  your 
power  scattered  and  gone."  "  0  Lord !  what  a  world  is  this !"  says 
Pride. 

NoAV,  that  man  has  not  had  a  particle  of  trouble.  Fear  sat  in  the 
window  and  lied.  And  Pride  cried,  and  Vanity  cried,  and  Avarice 
cried — and  ought  to  ciy.  Fear  sat  and  told  lies  to  them  all.  For 
there  was  not  one  of  those  things,  i^robably,  down  there.  Did  Fear 
see  them  ?  Yes.  But  Fear  has  a  kaleidoscope  in  its  eye,  and  every 
time  it  turns  it  takes  a  new  form.  It  is  filled  with  broken  glass,  and 
it  gives  false  pictures  continually.  Fear  does  not  see  right.  It  is  for- 
ever seeing  wrong.  And  it  is  stimulated  by  other  feelings.  Pride 
stimulates  it ;  and  Vanity  stimulates  it ;  and  Lust  stimulates  it ;  and 
Love  itself  finds,  sometimes,  no  better  busmess  than  to  send  Fear  on  its 
bad  errands.  For  Love  cries  at  the  cradle,  saying,  "  Oh  !  the  child  will 
die !"  It  will  not  die.  It  will  get  well.  And  then  you  will  not  be 
ashamed  that  you  prophesied  that  it  would  die.  You  put  on  mourn- 
ing in  advance.  "  Where  will  my  family  be  ?  Where  will  all  my 
children  go  ?  What  will  become  of  me  ?"  says  Love  in  its  lower 
moods.     Love  without  faith  is  as  bad  as  faith  without  love. 

So  Fear  sits  ui  the  Avindow  to  torment  the  lower  form  of  all  our 
good  feelino's  and  all  our  inalio:n  feelings.  And  under  such  cii'cum- 
stances  how  can  a  man  do  any  thing  ?  He  has  smoked  glass  before 
his  eyes  when  his  feelings  get  before  them,  and  they  are  in  a  morbid 
state. 

Again,  the  over-excited  and  painful  forelooking  which  is  forbidden 
in  Scripture  not  only  destroys  a  wise  and  accurate  judgment  by  which 


BVILS   OF  AyXlOUS  FORETEOUGHT.  145 

men  avail  themselves  of  natural  laws,  but  it  brings  them  uncle r  the 
power  of  shadows,  and  imaginations,  and  phantoms  which  they  fight 
without  pause,  and  upon  wliich  they  spend  their  strength  for  nothing. 
Taking  the  average  of  men's  lives,  they  suffer  more  from  things  that 
never  happen  than  from  things  that  do  happen.  How  many  times  do 
you  hear  men  say,  "  I  do  not  so  much  care  what  the  event  is,  if  it  will 
only  come  to  pass  and  be  done  with.  Let  me  know  what  it  is,  and  I 
can  bear  it ;  but  I  can  not  bear  suspense."  No,  you  can  not  bear  sus- 
pense. The  executioner's  ax  or  the  hangman's  cord  is  not  half  so 
hard  to  bear,  as  standing  and  asking,  "  Will  the  ax  smite  ?"  or,  "  Will 
the  cord  strangle  ?"  Bankruptcy  is  not  half  so  hard  to  bear  as  the 
fear  of  bankruptcy.  Sickness  is  not  half  so  hard  to  bear  as  the  appre- 
hension that  you  are  going  to  break  down  and  be  sick.  Bereavement 
itself,  oftentimes,  is  not  half  so  hard  to  bear  as  the  dread  of  bereave- 
ment. Many  a  mother  bears  up  over  the  coffin  better  than  she  did  over 
the  cradle.  It  is  astonishing  to  see  how  a  man  of  a  lively  imagination, 
of  a  warm  temperament,  and  of  great  eagerness  and  intensity  of 
thought,  will  fill  up  the  future — the  hunting-gi'ound  of  the  thoughts — 
with  these  imaginary  phantoms.  They  do  not  even  take  on  form. 
Long  before  it  rains,  it  is  cloudy.  Long  before  troubles  come,  men 
are  brooded  over  by  sorrow — by  "  low  spirits,"  as  it  is  said.  They 
are  dull.  They  are  lifeless.  They  are  full  of  fear.  They  have  no 
impetus  such  as  hope  and  courage  give,  on  account  of  that  which 
seems  to  be  coming. 

But  how  many  times,  in  summer,  has  that  black  cloud  which  was 
full  of  mighty  storms,  and  which  came  rising,  and  opening,  and  swing- 
ing through  the  air,  gone  by  without  having  a  drop  of  rain  in  it !  It 
was  a  wind-cloud.  And  after  it  had  all  disappeared,  men  took  breath 
and  said,  "  We  n(?ed  not  have  cocked  up  the  hay  in  such  a  hurry ;"  or, 
We  need  not  have  run  ourselves  out  of  breath  to  get  shelter  under  this 
tree."  And  how  many  times  have  there  been  clouds  rolled  up  in 
men's  heaven,  which  have  apparently  been  full  of  bolts  of  trouble, 
but  which  have  not  had  a  troitble  in  them  !  And  when  they  are  gone, 
men  forget  to  get  any  wisdom.  They  do  not  say,  "  Next  time  I  will 
do  better."  The  next  time  they  do  just  the  same  thing.  Of  the 
thought  that  excited  them,  that  haunted  them,  that  fevered  them,  tliat 
disturbed  their  sleep,  setting  them  whirling  around  in  eddies  of 
thought,  when  they  get  past  it,  they  say,  "  All  that  I  suffered  for  noth- 
ing." But  will  you  be  any  wiser  for  that  experience  ?  Probably  not. 
You  have  the  bad  habit  of  looking  into  the  future  with  a  hot  brain ; 
and  you  M'ill  not  cui-e  yourself  of  it  by  any  amount  of  feai\ 

Men  get  into  a  state,  sometimes,  in  which  they  rather  want  anxiety 
aiid  trouble.  As  poisons  become  stimulants,  so  these  corrosions  and 
cares  not  unfrequently  become  almost  indispensable.    There  ai-e  many 


146  EVILS   OF  AN-XIOUS  FORETHOVGET. 

people  wlio  not  only  suffer,  but  seek  suffering.  Thej^  look  at  every 
thing  on  the  dark  side.  If  you  present  the  bright  side  to  them,  they 
do  not  want  to  see  that.  They  are  in  a  minor  key,  and  they  want 
every  tiling  to  wail.  They  not  only  are  sick,  but  do  not  want  to  get 
well.  They  do  not  want  to  have  j^eople  say  to  them,  "  You  look  better 
to  day  than  you  did  yesterday."  If  one  says  to  them,  "  I  congratulate 
you  on  having  fewer  pains,"  they  resent  it,  and  say,  "  I  have  not  fewer 
pains.  I  never  suffered  so  much  in  all  my  life,"  They  begin  to  have 
a  morbid  desire  for  sympathy  on  account  of  trouble.  They  are  very 
much  like  what  are  called  "  weeping"  trees.  They  have  a  downward 
tendency ;  and  if  you  undertake  to  make  them  straight,  you  break 
them.  They  are  determined  to  be  weeping-willows.  There  are  many 
people  of  whom  it  may  be  said  that  they  are  never  happy  unless  they 
are  miserable ! 

Ah !  I  think  that  one  reason  why  angels  never  go  to  theatres  is, 
that  there  is  no  theatre  that  has  such  comedies  as  human  life.  There 
are  buffoons,  there  are  comedians,  innumerable,  high  and  low,  going 
tlu'ough  the  most  grotesque  plays.  They  do  not  know  it  themselves. 
Oh !  ShakesjDeare  never  wrote  such  comedies  and  such  tragedies  as  are 
found  in  human  life.  The  world  is  full  of  tliese  things.  Angels  see 
them,  and  you  can,  if  you  will  judge  of  life,  its  congruities  and  incon- 
gruities, from  a  higher,  a  more  rational,  and  a  more  spiritual  stand- 
point. 

We  see  many  curious  phenomena  in  what  is  called  "  biological  sci- 
ence," where  the  audience  crowd  the  hall,  and  the  mesmerizer,  or  nec- 
romancer, or  whatever  he  is  called,  puts  a  boy  under  the  influence 
of  his  mind,  and  tells  him  that  he  tastes  tobacco,  and  the  boy 
thmks  he  does  taste  tobacco ;  or  says  to  him,  "  That  is  a  lion," 
and  the  boy  thinks  it  is  a  lion ;  or  puts  a  bunch  of  crumpled 
pajDers  in  his  hand,  and  tells  him  that  they  are  flowers,  and  the  boy 
smells  of  them,  and  thinks  they  are  flowers — and  it  is  all  an  illusion. 
The  audience  see  it,  and  are  convulsed  with  laughter,  it  is  so  absurd. 
And  yet,  there  is,  probably,  not  a  single  man  that  is  not  doing  things 
that  are  just  as  absurd — running  from  gorgons ;  running  from  difficul- 
ties here  and  there ;  running  after  flowers  that  are  dried  and  misera- 
ble husks,  and  running  away  from  flowers  that  are  real  and  fragrant ; 
running  after  all  manner  of  fantastic  things,  because  his  hot,  creative, 
and  distempered  imagination  is  looking  into  the  future,  and  seeing 
thmgs  not  to  be  seen  by  the  reason — after  all  the  phantoms,  and  all 
the  whole  wild  array  of  sights  that  are  created  in  a  man's  mind. 

How  can  a  man,  under  such  circumstances,  be  either  healthy  or 
happy  ?     How  can  life  be  other  than  a  creak  and  a  groan  ? 

Anxiety,  by  putting  men  thus  through  these  false  paces  and  atti- 
tudes, destroys  the  possibility  of  their  vising  their  reason  or  their  moral 


EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS   FORETHOUGHT.  147 

sense  advantageoiisly.  So  then  all  your  anxiety  is  loss.  "  What  good 
does  it  do  ?"  says  the  Master.  "  Which  of  you,  by  taking  thought, 
can  add  one  cubit  to  his  stature?"  Birds  and  flowers,  Avithout  think- 
ing or  working,  get  all  that  they  need ;  and  so  can  you — all  that  you 
really  need.  A  vast  projiortion  of  the  events  that  you  foresee,  and 
dread,  have  no  reality ;  so,  what  is  the  use  of  thinking  and  worrying 
about  them?    It  not  only  does  no  good,  but  actually  does  harm. 

This  painful  anxiety  takes  away  from  men  all  that  steadiness 
and  hopefulness  and  courage  which  comes  from  a  belief  in  a  divine 
special  providence.  Men  are  all  atheists  when  they  are  afraid.  Fear 
is  atheistic.  "  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?"  said  the  scoffer  and  the  eru- 
cifier.  "  Where  is  my  God  ?"  says  Fear.  There  is  no  God,  to  Fear. 
He  is  gone,  or  never  existed. 

Men  in  enter^jrising  nations  come  to  have  extravagant  notions  of 
their  supreme  power  in  managing  affairs  and  fortune.  While  men  are 
young  and  healthy,  and  are  on  the  first  breath.,  as  it  is  said — while 
they  are  making  their  first  race — they  come  to  have  an  unwarrantable 
sense  of  how  skillful  they  are  and  of  how  certain  skill  and  power  and 
enterprise  are  to  bring  results.  But  when  men  are  broken  down;* 
when  they  are  brought  into  emergencies;  when  with  the  utmost 
thought  and  painstaking  and  skill  they  fail  where  before  they  succeed- 
ed— then  they  are  apt  to  be  discouraged. 

Men  are  very  much  like  horses,  that  are  very  unlike  oxen.  You 
may  put  an  ox  at  a  stone,  or  a  root,  and  he  will  pull  once,  twice, 
twenty  times — from  the  rising  of  the  sun  till  the  going  down  of  the 
same — stupid  fellow !  Put  a  horse  at  a  load,  and  he  will  pull  magnif- 
icently once  or  twice,  contorting  every  muscle ;  but  having  failed  in 
the  first  or  second  trial,  he  ^vdll  not  pull  again,  and  you  can  not  make 
him. 

Most  men  are  very  miich  like  the  horse.  Few  have  the  ox  in  them. 
Most  men  are  fiery.  They  are  fierce  in  their  confidence  at  first.  But 
when  they  have  failed  once  or  twice,  when  they  have  made  one  or 
two  brave  but  unsuccessful  efforts,  they  fall  back,  and  say,  "  No  use." 
In  prosperity  men  are  unduly  elated,  and  in  adversity  they  are  unduly 
depressed. 

Xow  men's  confidence  in  their  power  is  excessive.  It  was  not 
their  power  by  which  they  succeeded — at  any  rate,  in  the  beginning. 
It  was  the  ministration  of  divine  laws ;  it  was  the  imj^ulse  of  the  di 
vine  breath,  that  pervades  universal  being.  I  do  not  believe  that  men 
think  good  thoughts,  or  have  good  spiritual  emotions,  except  by  that 
pabulum  of  the  soul,  God's  Spirit,  that  is  like  an  atmosphere  through- 
out the  universe.  And  the  reason  Avhy  men  succeeded  at  all,  was  the 
divine  power  in  natural  law,  or  in  direct  impulse  or  inspiration. 
When,  therefore,  they  fall  back  and  are  discouraged,  not  recognizing 


148  EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT. 

that  theii-  power  came  largely  from  God,  they  forget,  also,  that  God's 
power  contmues  just  as  mucli  when  they  are  on  their  hacks  as  when 
they  are  on  their  feet.  And  so  when  men  are  in  despondency,  they  do 
not  see  any  God  here,  or  there,  or  yonder.  They  are  godless.  They  are 
without  God,  and,  as  you  might  well  suppose  that  they  would  be,  they 
are  Avithout  hope,  in  this  world. 

It  is  true  that  men  have  power ;  but  it  is  also  true  that  their  power 
moves  in  very  narrow  limits  of  liberty.  And  even  within  those  limits, 
men  employ  their  faculty  of  using  natural  law,  which  God  has  given 
•to  them,  and  which  he  retains  in  his  own  hands  in  larger  measui'e. 
You  have  power  in  the  conduct  of  affairs,  because  you  know  how  to 
use  the  laws  of  light,  and  gravity,  and  motion,  and  heat,  and  electrici- 
ty. But  you  do  not  exhaust  the  capacity  to  use  natural  law.  God 
can  do  it  fi'om  his  side  as  well  as  you  can  from  yours,  and  to  a  much 
greater  extent  than  you  can.  And  that  is  what  we  mean  hjprovi-. 
dence.  We  mean  by  it  the  cajDacity  and  the  disposition  of  men  uni- 
versally to  use  natural  law;  and  by  GocVs  providence  I  mean  God's 
caj)acity  to  use  natural  laws,  and  make  them  serve  men. 

When  a  man,  then,  lives  in  an  overweening  confidence  of  his  power 
to  use  natural  law,  and  he  does  not  attribute  any  thing  to  God,  if  his 
power  fails,  from  any  reason,  he  takes  no  comfort  in  the  thought, 
"  Though  my  power  over  natural  law  ceases,  or  I  am  out  of  joint  with 
the  course  of  events,  God's  power  does  not  cease."  But  the  peculiar 
blessedness  of  the  true  Christian,  who  believes  in  a  special  providence, 
is,  that  the  heavens  are  full  of  God,  that  human  affairs  are  full  of  God, 
and  that  men  are  so  controlled  that  it  may  be  said  literally,  that,  to 
every  man  who  puts  his  soul  in  communication  with  God,  "  all  things 
shall  work  together  for  good."  But  if  a  man  is  perpetually  looking 
into  the  future  with  despondency,  where  is  his  faith  that  God  rules  ? 
Where  is  the  help  that  he  gets  from  the  consideration  that,  though  his 
power  may  have  failed,  and  though  his  affairs  may  have  been  abortive, 
there  is  a  power  that  is  higher  than  his,  working  for  him ;  a  wisdom 
that  is  better  than  his,  watching  for  him ;  and  a  heart  that  is  truer  than 
his,  loving  him  and  caring  for  him. 

It  is  this  confidence  in  God's  providence,  it  is  this  faith  in  special, 
daily,  minute  and  particular  providence,  that  carries  a  man  almost 
without  thought  through  life.  It  is  the  spring  that  is  intei'posed  be- 
tween the  jolt  and  the  rider  in  a  carriage.  It  is  this  faith  in  divine 
providence  in  human  affairs,  in  anxieties,  in  corrosive  cares,  in  harrow- 
ing fears,  that  lifts  a  man  up  above  all  imaginary  troubles,  and  re- 
lieves him  from  the  jolt  of  all  real  troubles. 

But  it  will  be  asked,  "  Can  a  man  hold  himself  to  the  healthy  line 
of  action  ?  Can  a  man  think  just  far  enough,  and  then  not  think  any 
further  ?"    He  can  not ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  I  preach  it.     You 


EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT.  149 

ought  to  learn  it.  A  man  that  is  a  scholar  can  take  a  book  and  read 
right  along,  and  understand  the  meaning  of  what  he  reads.  Can  every- 
body do  it?  No.  Eveiy  body  that  has  learned  to  do  it  can,  and 
nobody  can  that  has  not.  And  nobody  can  think  "without  anxiety  who 
has  not  learned  to  do  it.  You  will  never  refrain  from  anxious  thought, 
unless  you  are  taught  that  it  is  your  duty  as  well  as  your  privilege. 
One  thing  is  certain — that  he  who  learns  how  to  fore-think  without 
anxious  forethought,  must  do  it  beforehand.  If  my  watch  breaks,  and 
I  am  in  the  wilderness,  and  I  would  fain  repair  it,  I  can  not  learn 
watch-making  on  the  spot,  in  order  to  repair  my  watch.  I  should 
have  learned  the  trade  beforehand.  Then  I  could  have  applied  my 
knowledge  of  it  to  the  case  in  hand.  If  a  man  is  set  to  make  calcula- 
tions and  work  out  problems  in  astronomy  before  he  has  studied  arith- 
metic, he  can  not  gather  up,  on  the  sjDot,  the  knowledge  that' he  needs 
for  making  those  calculations.  If  a  man  would  calculate  an  eclipse, 
or  any  jDrocess  of  navigation,  or  what  not,  he  must  have  a  knowledge 
of  figures  beforehand.  And  if  a  man  would  be  able  to  meet  an  event 
in  a  particular  way,  he  should  prepare  himself  for  it  before  it  comes. 
The  preparation  must  precede  the  event.  If  a  man  is  generally  learned, 
he  can  apply  his  general  learning  to  special  cases.  But  when  a  special 
case  comes,  it  is  too  late  for  him  to  get  the  general  learning  to  ajsply 
to  that  special  case. 

In  regard  to  forethought,  it  requires  such  a  carriage  of  life,  such  a 
training  of  thought,  such  a  training  of  the  mind  to  com2:)rehend  the 
divine  providence,  such  a  training  of  our  feelings  and  processes,  that 
when  the  time  of  trouble  comes,  a  man  can  stand  calm,  and  think  as 
far  as  it  is  profitable  to  think,  and  no  further  than  that. 

A  man  is  like  a  horse.  An  unbroken  horse  will  run  away  on  some 
great  fright.  An  intelligent  and  well-broken  horse  will  not.  And  a 
man  that  is  well  trained  in  time  of  trouble  stands  still  and  holds  him- 
self steadily.  A  man  that  is  not  well  broken  just  at  that  time  breaks 
the  halter,  and  rushes  down  the  steep  precipice,  it  may  be,  or  sticks 
fast  in  the  morass,  and  does  damage  to  himself  and  all  that  he  carries. 
There  are  very  few  men  that  have  ever  been  well  broken.  As  a  general 
rule,  men  have  not  learned  to  think  prudently,  calmly,  with  faith,  with 
hope,  with  cheer,  and,  above  all,  with  an  unfaltering  confidence  in  that 
God  who  reigns  now,  and  is  to  reign  in  all  future  time. 

It  will  be  asked,  further,  "  Are  there  no  exceptions  in  great  emer- 
gencies ?  You  do  not  mean  to  teach  us  that,  if  a  sudden  calamity  befall 
a  man,  if  tremendous  dangers  overtake  him,  if  great  losses  stare  him  in 
the  face,  he  can  always  be  calm  ?"  I  do  not  mean  to  teach  exactly  that ; 
but  I  do  mean  to  teach  that  calmness  in  sudden  danger  is  an  attribute 
of  manhood,  and  that  it  is  within  the  reach  of  all  who  will  cultivate  it. 


150  JEJVJLS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUOHT. 

It  is  easier  for  some  to  cultivate  it  than  for  others ;  but  it  iS  possible 
for  all. 

It  is  the  very  ideal  of  true  manhood,  not  to  be  suppressed.  A 
man  should  lay  it  down  in  his  mind,  when  he  begins  life,  "  I  am,  and 
I  will  be  superior  to  my  circumstances.  I  never  will  be  put  in  a  place 
that  I  am  not  adequate  to."  "  I  have  learned,"  says  Paul,  "  in  all  con- 
ditions therewith  to  be  content.  I  know  how  to  abound,  and  how 
to  be  abased,"  A  man  should  take  that  conception,  and  say,  going 
through  life,  "  There  shall  nothing  befall  me  that  I  am  not  adequate 
to  bear." 

Can  a  ma;n  do  that  ?  He  can.  He  should.  It  is  not  so  very 
difficult  as  men  think.  It  only  requires  that  one  should  have  a  real 
faith  in  heaven,  a  real  faith  in  God,  a  real  faith  in  the  love  of  God  to 
him,  and  a  real  faith  in  the  joy  that  is  not  far  from  him.  With  that 
it  could  be  done,  and  could  be  done  easily.  "We  do  it  in  a  small  way 
all  the  time. 

If  I  am  a  little  child,  and  some  one  has  given  me  a  peach,  and  I 
am  carrying  it  daintily  in  my  hand,  and  an  ugly  boy  behind  me 
snatches  it  from  me,  and  runs  away,  I  mourn  over  the  loss  of  that 
peach".  Suppose,  however,  I  am  the  owner  of  a  hundred  acres  of 
peach-trees,  and  the  boughs  are  all  loaded  with  peaches,  and  I  am 
walking  along  with  a  peach  in  my  hand,  and  an  ugly  boy  snatches 
it  from  me  ?  I  look  at  him,  and  say,  "  That  is  an  unmannered  cub  ; 
but  then,  what  do  I  care  for  the  peach  ?  I  have  ten  thousand  more 
of  them  right  over  the  fence." 

Come  up  and  steal  some  of  my  flowers,  any  of  you  that  want  to, 
next  summer.  I  shall  not  miss  them.  I  have  so  many  that  you 
might  take  a  wheelbarrow  load,  and  I  should  have  enough  the  next 
morning.  I  can  conceive,  however,  that  a  seamstress,  up  in  an  attic, 
might  have  a  little  tea-rose,  the  only  thing  she  had  which  savored  of 
taste,  and  a  present  from  her  mother,  who  died,  leaving  her  an 
orphan  ;  and  I  can  conceive  how  desolate  she  might  feel,  if  the  rats 
had  gnawed  it  and  destroyed  it,  or  if  some  one  had  stolen  it.  But 
you  can  not  trouble  me  so.  You  may  take  fifty  roses,  and  I  will  have 
five  hundred  left.  You  can  not  make  me  poor  by  taking  my  flowers, 
I  have  such  an  abundance. 

If  a  man  has  nothing  but  what  grows  in  this  life,  you  can  make  him 
poor  and  unhappy;  but  if  a  man  believes  in  God,  and  believes  in 
heaven,  and  belieA^es  in  the  joy  that  awaits  him  there ;  if  all  the 
things  that  are  said  in  the  N"ew  Testament  are  real  to  him,  how  are 
you  going  to  bankrupt  him  ?  How  are  you  going  to  overthrow  so 
lordly  a  spirit  as  his  who  has  heard  God  say,  "  Thou  art  my  son  "?  Son 
of  God — yes,  prince  ;  heir  with  Christ  to  all  things — forever  and  for- 
ever heir  !     How  is  any  sudden  trouble  to  run  in  upon  him  ?    In  the 


EVILS   OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT.  151 

full  consciousness  of  his  estate;  in  the  joy  and  dignity  of  his  relation- 
ship, how  shall  any  man  harm  him  ? 

But  you  can  make  such  a  one  cry.  Crying  is  good.  Crying 
washes  out  the  channels.  You  can  make  such  a  man's  heart  ache. 
Heartache  is  good.  It  is  medicine.  It  does  men  good  to  cry ; 
it  does  men  good  to  ache ;  and  it  does  men  good  to  feel  that  they 
have  had  their  hands  somewhat  rudely  wrenched  from  idols.  But  that 
is  diflerent  from  being  overcome,  and  dismayed,  and  fevered,  and  an- 
noyed, and  worried,  and  pursued  by  verminous  care  through  life.  You 
can  not  do  that  to  a  man  that  believes  in  God,  that  believes  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  that  believes  in  Jesus,  who  loved  him  so  that  he 
gave  himself  for  him,  and  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  Having  given  his  Son, 
shall  he  not  also,  with  him,  freely  give  us  all  needed  things  ?"  Who 
can  separate  such  a  man  from  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  ? 
Things  present — all  the  wild  confusion  of  present  things  ;  things  to 
come — the  threatenings  that  rise,  spectres,  in  the  future — can  these 
separate  a  man  from  his  hope  ?  Can  things  above,  or  things  below  ? 
Nothing  can.  Nothing  this  side  the  grave,  and  nothing  beyond  the  ' 
grave.  Nothing  in  time,  and  nothing  in  eternity.  "  If  God  be  for 
us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?" 

Here  is  courage,  here  is  faith,  for  you.  The  child  may  have  it.  A 
philosoplier  can  have  nothing  better — a  faith  that  equalizes  the  road 
of  life ;  a  faith  that  extracts  poison  from  suffering,  while  the  suffer- 
ing yet  remains.  Here  is  the  faith  of  Immanuel,  God  with  us ;  an 
ever-present  Help  in  time  of  trouble  ;  the  fiithful  God  ;  the  covenant- 
keeping  God ;  the  God  that  does  exceeding  abundantly  more  than 
we  ask  or  think.  A  man's  strength  does  not  stand  in  himself,  but  in 
leaning  on  God.  The  middle  of  the  Atlantic  is  as  safe  as  any  other 
part,  when  a  storm  is  raging.  And  a  child  is  as  safe  as  a  strong  man  ; 
because,  if  the  ship  does  not  go  down,  both  are  preserved ;  and  if  it  does 
go  down,  they  are  both  drowned.  The  difference  in  their  strength  is 
nothing  when  it  is  the  Atlantic. 

And  so,  men's  strength  in  life  is  not  in  their  wisdom  and  potency. 
The  strength  of  men  lies  in  the  massive  strength  of  Jehovah.  It  is 
in  the  providence  of  God.  It  is  in  the  presence  of  God.  It  is  the  con- 
scious love  of  God  in  the  human  soul  that  makes  a  man  strong  and 
invincible. 

Suppose  every  thing  should  befill  a  man  that  could  hapj^en  to  him, 
what  would  it  matter?  How  long  Avould  it  be  before  he  would  be 
out  of  the  reach  of  suffering  ?  Where  are  the  fathers  ?  Where  are 
the  Puritans  that  died  the  first  winter  along  the  coast  of  Massachu- 
setts ?  Their  trouble  was  long  since  over.  They  have  forgotten  it, 
imless  now  and  then  thought  comes  to  raise  a  higher  strain  of  tri- 
umph.    Where  are  the  witnesses  of  God  that  perished  in  dungeons  ?" 


152  EVILS  OF  ANXIOUS  FORETnOUGHT. 

Where  are  the  men  that  suffered  crnelties  rather  than  abandon  their 
faith?  "Where  are  the  uncrowned  kings  that  made  the  earth  rich? 
Where  are  they  whose  neck  the  halter  found,  and  whose  body  was 
found  by  the  rack  ?  The  Avliole  creation  has  groaned  and  travailed 
over  the  sufferings  of  men  who  are  now  where  no  suffering  can  get  to 
them. 

Life  is  but  a  handbreadth.  'Each  year  is  not  so  much  as  the 
bead  that  the  beauty  wears  about  her  neck.  Pearl  though  it  be,  or 
iron,  it  soon  j^asses  away.  The  places  that  know  you  will  soon 
know  you  no  more  forever.  The  cares  that  made  you  fret  yesterday 
are  already  below  the  horizon.  The  troubles  that  make  you  anxious 
to-day  will  not  be  troubles  when  you  meet  them.  But  what  if  they 
were  ?  A  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand  is  swelling  and  filling 
the  whole  heaven.  What  then  ?  To-day  its  bolts  may  smite  you  ; 
but  to-morrow  you  will  be  in  heaven.  Your  children  have  died  and 
gone  home ;  but  Avhat  of  that  ?  Soon  you  will  follow  them.  Your 
friends  have  gone  on  before ;  but  what  of  that  ?  You  will  soon  be 
with  them.  Your  life  is  full  of  troubles  and  mischiefs ;  but  what  of 
that  ?  Those  mischiefs  and  troubles  are  nearly  over — nearer  than 
you  think.    The  glorious  future  is  almost  yours. 

O  Grave  !  thy  hand  crowns  as  no  monarch  can.  Knighted  are  we, 
not  by  the  touch  of  the  sword  of  any  soldier,  or  king,  or  prince. 
Trouble,  it  is,  that  lays  its  sword  on  men's  shoulders,  and  says,  "  Rise 
up,  sir  knight!"  There  are  things  in  this  life  that  give  men  great 
victories  all  the  way  through  ;  but  oh  !  the  victory  of  one  moment  in 
the  future  is  worth  more  than  all  those  earthly  victories.  One 
look  into  heaven  pays  better  than  the  whole  experience  of  a  life  of 
joy  here.  And  the  blessedness  of  the  world  to  come  ought  to  take 
away  from  this  world  all  its  frets,  all  its  fears,  all  its  disasters,  all  its 
ti'oubles ;  and  we  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  be  as  anxious  as  we  are. 

Christian  brethren,  scour  up  your  Bibles.  Scour  them  until  you 
can  see  your  face  in  them.  Take  the  whole  armor  of  God  to  yourselves 
again.  Avail  yourselves  of  these  precious  truths  and  assurances  of 
God.  Oh  !  how  you  have  treated  yourselves,  to  say  nothing  about 
men's  treatment  of  you !  How  you  fall  below  your  privileges  I  I 
do,  too.  I  am  the  best  man  in  the  world  to  preach  to  you  ;  for  I  prac- 
tice almost  every  thing  that  I  warn  you  against!  I  get  angry,  and 
then  I  laugh  at  myself  I  get  proud.  Tiiat  is  the  way  I  understand 
so  well  about  you.  I  am  worldly ;  and  for  that  reason  I  understand 
how  barren  a  thing  it  is  to  seek  the  things  of  the  world.  I  am  a  man 
of  like  passions  with  yourselves,  and  I  know  you.  I  do  not  need  to  go 
into  your  houses  to  find  you  out.  I  have  a  ftxithful  monitor  that  tells 
rae  about  everything  tliat  men  are  and  that  men  do  in  this  life.  We 
are  all  of  us,  almost,  living  without  our  crowns  on.    Let  us  look  for 


EVILS  OF  ANXIOUS  FORETHOUGHT.  153 

our  crowns.  Let  us  put  tliem  on  our  head.  If  they  are  crowns  of 
thorns,  let  us  remember  that  the  Master  wore  such  a  crown.  Though 
for  the  moment  they  make  blood-spots,  let  us  remember  that  by  blood 
the  world  lias  learned  to  live  better.  Lift  up  your  heads.  Lift  up 
your  hearts.  Have  you  committed  yourself  to  God  ?  Have  you  given 
your  heart  to  God  ?  Do  you  think  he  will  not  be  able  to  take  care 
of  you  ? 

Shall  a  child  cry  when  the  mother  takes  it  up  at  night  out  of  a 
frightful  dream  ?  No.  The  child  seeks  its  mother's  bosom,  and  is  at 
rest.  Shall  God's  great  arm  be  round  about  you,  and  shall  the 
bosom  of  unfailing  love  be  your  supply,  and  shall  you  go  moaning 
and  crying  as  if  you  were  orphans  and  were  neglected  ?  Oh !  let  the 
light  of  Christ's  love,  the  joy  of  his  presence,  the  opening  of  the 
heavens  so  that  you  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  redeem  you  from  anxious 
care.  Which  of  you  can,  by  taking  thought,  add  one  foot  to  liis 
stature?  What  good  will  it  do  you  to  be  troubled?  It  will  only 
make  your  state  worse.  On  the  other  hand,  how  beautiful  and  joyful 
are  the  remunerations  of  faith !  Live,  then,  by  f\ith,  and  not  by 
sio-ht. 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMOX.* 

We  thank  tliee,  Almighty  God,  for  all  the  things  which  tliou  hast  made  our 
children  teach  us.  How  much  do  we  know  of  ourselves  that  we  never  should 
have  known  but  for  our  offspring !  How  much  do  we  know  of  thee  that  we  never 
should  have  known  but  for  our  children !  How  much  do  we  know  of  thy  govern- 
ment and  of  thy  feelings  which  no  language  could  have  interpreted  to  us,  but 
which  we  have  learned  from  those  who  are  so  much  weaker  than  we  are,  and 
who  are  so  far  below  us !  How  much  thou  hast  taught  us  of  time,  and  how  much 
of  eternity !  Many  as  are  the  pains  that  we  have  had,  carrying  burdens  ;  much 
as  we  have  had  of  care  ;  much  as  we  have  suflFered  from  sorrows  and  bereave- 
ments, thou  hast  paid  its  back  a  thousand  fold,  for  all  our  trouble  at  the  hands 
of  our  dear  little  children.  We  thank  thee  for  them  ;  for  that  blessed  estate  into 
which,  by  them,  we  are  brought ;  for  all  the  sanctities  of  love  in  the  household  ; 
for  all  the  disclosures  of  truth  in  the  atFections  thereof. 

And  now,  0  Lord  !  we  thank  thee  for  the  mercy  which  thou  hast  shown  such 
of  us  as  have  children  grown  up  and  entered  into  life.  We  thank  thee  for  all  thy 
great  goodness  to  them,  and  to  us  through  them. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord !  that  tliou  wilt  look  upon  the  children  of  this 
church;  upon  all  that  have  been  brought  with  consecration  into  the  sanctuary-; 
upon  all  that  have  been  offered  with  prayers  and  tears  in  the  closet.  We  be- 
seech of  thee,  that  thou  wilt  accept  the  desire  of  parents'  hearts  ;  and  that  thou 
wilt  inspire  them  with  wisdom  and  fidelity,  that  they  may  be  able  to  bring  up 
their  children  in  such  a  way  that  when  they  are  old  they  shall  not  depart  from 
integrity  and  truth  and  piety. 

Bless  in  especial  the  dear  children  that  have  been  brought  hither  this  morn- 
ing. We  hear  the  voice,  in  their  wails,  of  life  coming  upon  them.  Sorrows  are 
awaiting  them  ;  temptations  shall  beset  them ;  tears  shall  be  wruncr  from  them. 
And  yet,  O  God !  thou  art  stronger  than  sorrow,  and  thou  canst  carry  them  through 
crying  and  through  tribulation,  and  sav(!  them  yet  to  great  joy  here,  and  to  im- 
mortality hereafter.     We  can  not  ask  that  sorrows,  which  prophesy  themselves 

*  Immediately  following  the  baptism  of  children. 


154  EVILS  OF  AXXTOUS  FORETHOUGHT. 

already,  sliould  not  come.  Since  tliou  hast  been  made  perfect  tlirough  suffering, 
why  siiould  we  not  be  made  perfect  through  suffering?  But  we  commend  them, 
in  this  stormy  world,  with  its  temptations  and  sins,  to  thy  fatherly  thought  and 
care  and  guidance.  Oh  !  take  care  of  them,  that  they  may  not  stumble  with  fatal 
downfall."  Sanctify  affliction  to  them,  and  temptation  itself,  that  they  may  grow 
strong  and  vanquish  it. 

And  may  the  parents  of  these  children,  who  have  offered  them  up  in  the  midst  of 
their  brethren,  and  signified  their  earnest  desire  and  purpose  to  bring  them  up  in 
the  fear  of  God,  be  strengthened  to  do  it.  May  they  believe,  and  truly  believe,  that 
they  have  the  sympathy  of  the  brethren  of  this  church,  and  that  our  prayers  shall 
go  forth  for  them  as  well  as  for  ourselves.  And  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  !  that 
thou  wilt  make  us  to  feel  more  and  more  that  we  are  one  household  grouped  to- 
gether. And  though  our  number  is  so  large,  and  we  are  so  distributed  that  one 
can  not  know  all,  yet  we  rejoice  that  we  are  as  those  who  live  in  one  country,  to 
whom  all  the  country  and  all  the  people  are  related. 

Thou  hast  made  this  church  blessed  hitherto.  Continue  to  bless  it,  in  its  chil- 
dren, in  its  households,  in  its  youth.  We  thank  thee  that  so  many  have  grown 
up  here,  and  already  are  proved  in  an  honorable  manhood.  We  thank  thee  that 
so  many  have  grown  up  to  woman's  estate,  «,nd  are  themselves  rearing  children 
for  the  Lord. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  accept  our  thanks  for  all  thy  great  mer- 
cies shown  to  us.  We  take  courage  every  day.  We  are  hopeful  of  the  future. 
The  memory  of  thy  goodness  inspires  us  with  courage  and  with  trust  for  the 
time  to  come. 

We  commit  to  thee  now,  the  interests  of  all  the  parents,  and  all  the  children, 
and  all  the  youth  in  our  congregation,  and  pray  that  they  may  be  shielded  from 
harm,  and  brought  up  in  sovereign  virtue,  in  true  piety,  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord, 
and  in  the  love  of  men. 

Aid  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  go  forth  with  thy  work  everywh.ere.  Gather  into 
thy  churches  the  young.  Inspire  thy  ministering  servants  with  more  power,  with 
clearer  discrimination  of  truth,  and  with  a  more  earnest  and  zealous  heart  for  the 
proclamation  of  it. 

May  thy  cause  spread  everywhere.  May  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  visited  by 
thy  salvation.  May  Jew  and  Gentile  be  gathered  in  as  the  fullness  of  the  Lord. 
And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  of  our  salvation.    Amen 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE   SERMOlf. 

Oim  Father,  wilt  thou  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  on  the  word  spoken  this 
morning.  May  it  search  us  ;  may  it  find  out  our  weak  places  ;  may  it  be  as  rain 
on  parched  ground ;  may  it  come  to  us,  we  beseech  of  thee,  with  admonition,  in 
time  of  need,  to  call  us  back  from  folly  and  frivolity.  May  it  enable  us  to  lift  up 
ourselves  again,  and  walk  erect,  bearing  the  hope  of  our  sonship.  May  we  also 
bear  in  our  demeanor  the  witness  that  we  are  the  sons  of  God.  Ennoble  us. 
May  we  think  and  feel  nobler.  May  we  live  more  nobly.  Oh  !  that  men,  looking 
upon  us,  might  sav,  "  Better,  now,  understand  I  God."  Grant  that  experience. 
We  ask  "not  to  be  perfect.  We  ask  not  to  be  any  thing  but  weak,  if  we  may  lie  in 
thine  arm.  We  are  wiping  to  be  poor,  if  we  may  only  take  thy  riches.  We  are 
willing  to  weep,  if  it  but  cleanses  our  eyes  to  behold  afar  off  the  things  that  con- 
cern our  peace.  We  are  willing  to  say,  "'Lord,  thy  will  be  done."  0  blessed  Will  I 
O  glorious  Will !  O  Will  of  all  love,  and  of  all  grace,  and  of  all  good  in  time  to 
come  !  be  thou  done  in  us,  and  round  about  us,  and  in  all  the  world.  And  to  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  the  praise.    Amen. 


X. 

The  Beauty  of  Moral  Qualities. 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL  QUALITIES. 

SUNDAY  MORNING,  MAY  16,  1869. 


"  Let  your  light  so  sliine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and 
glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." — Matt.  v.  16.  . 


This  is  the  application  of  the  exhortation  contained  in  a  figure  just 
preceding,  where  the  Saviour  declares  that  his  people  are  like  unto  a 
city  set  upon  an  hill,  which  can  not  be  hid ;  that  they  are  like  a  candle 
which  is  placed  upon  a  candlestick,  that  it  may  give  light  everywhere 
in  the  house.  So  men  are,  in  their  Christian  relations,  to  be  luminous 
and  conspicuous. 

The  employment  in  Scripture  of  the  figure  of  light  to  represent 
moral  qualities  is  universaL  It  began  early.  It  continued  to  the  end 
of  the  record.  Nor  is  there  any  inflection,  apparently,  of  meaning, 
which  is  not  already  used.  Ingenuity  can  scarcely  find  a  way  of  illus- 
trating moral  truth  by  the  use  of  light,  or  the  modes  of  light,  that 
has  not  been  employed  in  Scripture.  And  the  more  clearly  we  study, 
the  more  close  is  the  absolute  analogy — for  it  is  more  than  illustra- 
tion ;  it  is  analogy. 

Without  dwelling  upon  this — coming  back  to  it  by  and  by  in  the 
discussion — I  proceed  to  say, 

1.  The  moral  qualities  enjoined  in  Christianity  are  m  the  highest 
sense  natural — not  artificial ;  not  secondary ;  not  newly  superinduced, 
or  created  by  God's  spirit  upon  the  mind.  They  are  natural,  yet  not 
in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  been  taught  to  disbelieve  in  the  natural 
fruits  of  the  mind.  I  mean  that  they  are  not  after- thoughts  of 
God,  The  qualities  which  we  call  "  Christian,"  and  the  experiences 
Avhich  we  call  "  religious"  are  not  something  which  is  superinduced 
upon  the  mind  by  some  after  arrangement.  They  were  provided  foi 
in  the  organization  of  the  soul  and  of  the  human  life.  If  we  may  imag 
ine  that  point  at  which  man  was  sketched  in  the  divine  thought,  the 
divine  purpose  was  to  create  human  beings  so  that  they  should  bi-ing 
forth,  by  their  very  organization,  that  which  we  are  seeking  to  induce  in 
men  by  Christian  teaching.     Every  man,  enlightened  by  the  divine 

Lbsson:  Matt.  v.  13-26.  Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  816,  T76, 1181. 


15G  THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

Spirit,  is  therefore  called  of  God  back  to  nature — using  the  term  nor 
ture  iu  a  sense  higher  and  better  than  the  ordinary  theological  sense. 

This  word,  I  have  intimated,  is  used  in  two  senses.  The  life  which 
men  uniformly  fall  into  is  called  the  natural  life.  That  is  the  lower 
form  of  life.  It  is  secondary.  It  is  also  used  to  signify  the  life  which 
was  intended,  and  for  which  the  mind  was  set  xii?,  and  secretly  stored. 
This  is  the  higher  sense.  It  is  the  original,  primary  one.  So  that  nature 
may  mean  that  nature  which  God  makes,  or  that  nature  which  man 
makes.  The  latter  is  ignoble  and  poor,  and  must  be  got  over.  The 
former  is  true  and  noble,  and  is  to  be  sought. 

What  I  believe,  is,  that  the  human  mind  was  constructed  so  that 
every  faculty  in  its  organization  tends  to  produce,  is  explicitly  invent- 
ed to  bring  to  pass,  those  very  results  which  we  call  Christian  quali- 
ties. And  it  is  better  adapted  to  be  good  than  to  be  bad.  And  the 
being  bad  is  something  interposed  between  the  original  creative  design 
and  the  execution.  That  is  the  lapse.  That  is  the  fall.  God's  creative 
intent,  or,  if  I  may  so  say,  the  inventive  design  in  the  human  soul, 
was,  that  it  should  bring  out,  naturally,  by  the  spontaneous  action  of 
every  part  and  faculty  of  it,  just  those  fruits  which  we  seek  now  by 
Christianity. 

I  believe  in  nature.,  therefore :  not  that  degraded  nature  which  sig- 
nifies conduct,  but  that  other  nature  which  signifies  creative  design^ 
God's  original,  contemplated  plan.  And  the  position  which  I  took 
was,  that  the  moral  qualities  which  are  enjoined  in  Christianity  are, 
in  a  higher  sense,  natural.  It  is  natural  for  men  to  be  true.  That 
is,  they  have  been  built  so  that  that  is  the  proper  out- working  of  their 
nature.  It  is  natural  for  men  to  live  conscientiously.  Faith  is  natu- 
ral. Hope  is  natural.  Love  is  natural.  Benevolence  is  natural. 
SiDirituality  is  natural.  There  has  been  provision  made  for  it.  And  it 
does  not  alter  the  fact  that  there  was  a  creative  purpose  expressed  in 
the  orojauization  of  the  human  soul.  Relio;iou  is  natural.  Irreligion 
is  artificial. 

2.  There  is  a  moral  constitution,  by  reason  of  which  Christian 
qualities  seem  admirable  to  men.  It  is  because  men  were  built  to  act 
Christianly,  religiously,  that  when  they  perceive  true  Christian  quali- 
ties, the  original  nature  in  them  appreciates  those  qualities.  Not  at- 
once ;  because  the  natural  man  understandeth  not  the  things  of  the 
Si^irit.  There  is  a  latent  capacity  to  do  it.  It  may  be  brought  within 
the  reach  of  every  map's  knowing,  though  every  man  may  not  per- 
ceive it. 

Moral  excellence  is  beautiful.  That  can  not  be  proved,  except  to 
say  that  it  is  the  testimony  of  all  men,  just  in  proportion  as  they  are 
developed  into  manhood.  I  do  not  believe  a  man's  nature  lies  in  the 
Beed.     The  higher  up  and  the  further  away  a  man  gets  from  the  crea- 


HHE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  157 

tive  point,  the  nearer  he  conies  to  his  nature.  Men  are  always  talking 
about  going  back  to  nature,  and  saying  that  they  ought  to  live  so  and 
so,  because  nature  teaches  them  so  and  so.  You  might  as  well  say 
that  the  wheat  which  you  bury  underground  is  more  near  to  nature  than 
the  whole  harvest  which  comes  out  of  that  wheat,  and  waves,  golden, 
over  the  field.  Is  an  acorn  nearer  to  nature  than  an  oak  tree  from 
that  acorn,  which  has  grown  a  hundred  years  ?  Is  a  knife  more  a  knife 
when  it  is  shut  up  than  when  it  is  ojDcn  ? 

God  created  men  in  this  world,  and  created  them  at  the  seminal 
point ;  and  no  man  is  so  far  from  nature — that  is,  from  the  sum  of  all 
that  he  was  meant  to  be — as  the  man  that  is  just  born — as  nations 
and  individuals  in  their  lower  estate.  They  are  nearer  bad  nature,  but 
they  are  not  nearer  the  divine,  creative  nature  that  lies  far  away,  and 
comes  by  unfolding,  by  growing.  Wliich  is  the  vine,  the  two  leaves 
breaking  out  of  the  ground,  or  that  which  has  grown  and  covered  the 
trellis  ?  Which  is  the  nearest  the  vine  as  it  lay  in  God's  mind  when 
he  thought  of  a  vine  ?  It  is  education  that  brings  men  to  nature.  It 
is  civilization  that  comes  nearer  to  nature  than  savageism.  Nature 
does  not  live  in  the  woods,  but  in  popiilous  cities.  Nature  is  not 
found  in  ignorance,  or  weakness,  or  gross  apj^etites.  It  is  not  till 
men  have  been  taught  to  live  higher  than  animals,  higher  than  brute, 
selfish  human  beings,  in  the  refinements  of  reason  and  moral  sense,  that 
they  begin  to  touch  their  real  nature.  And  the  further  they  go  up  in 
this  direction,  the  nearer  they  get  to  the  creative  nature  that  they  were 
meant  to  develop  into. 

Now,  as  men  go  toward  their  nature,  moral  qualities  seem  beauti- 
ful to  them.  The  only  evidence  which  you  can  allege  that  moral 
qualities  are  beautiful  is,  that  when  they  are  presented  to  the  truest 
judges  they  seem  beautiful;  and  the  truest  judges  are  those  that  are 
the  most  developed  toward  their  ultimate  nature. 

There  is  in  physical  nature  a  relation  between  the  eye  and  the 
qualities  of  matter,  such  that  form  and  color  are  agreeable  to  the  eye. 
We  hold  that  the  same  God  who  made  the  eye  made  the  world  to  be 
looked  at,  and  that  the  same  God  who  made  the  world  made  the  eye 
to  look  upon  it.  Tliei'e  is  a  relation  between  one  and  the  other  by 
Avhich  combinations  of  forms  and  color  are  beautiful,  as  they  Avere 
meant  to  be. 

And  yet,  thougji  this  is  universal,  and  substantially  the  same  in 
all  men,  deviations  and  variations  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding— 
this  sense  of  beauty  may  be  dormant — may  not  visibly  exist  to  any 
considerable  degree.  In  certain  nations,  it  may  not  exist  except  in  its 
better  nature.  At  the  same  time,  we  are  all  of  us  satisfied  that  the 
eye  was  made  to  see  beauty,  and  that  the  natural  world  was  made  to 
be  beautiful  for  the  eye. 


158  THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

That  which  is  true  in  respect  to  the  eye  and  the  outward  world 
is  just  as  true  in  respect  to  the  soul's  eye  and  moral  beauty.  All 
heathenism  and  grossness  and  barbarism  do  not  prevent  our  seeing 
that  God  has  made  the  moral  beautiful,  and  that  the  race  was  so 
made ;  that  there  is  a  preparation  of  conscience  or  moral  sense  such 
that  whatever  is  beautiful  in  experience  and  action  has  something  in 
every  man  to  respond  to  it.  A  man  may  be  a  liar ;  and  yet  there 
never  was  a  liar  that  had  not  a  spot  in  him  where  he  could  npt  help 
admirino-  truth.  A  man  may  be  a  man  of  passion ;  and  yet  there  is  a 
spot  where  reason,  dominant  over  passion,  commands  his  attention  and 
admiration.  A  man  may  be  vulgar,  and  coarse,  and  wicked ;  and  yet 
tliere  is  lying  in  every  man  a  moral  sense  which,  if  you  can  get  at  it, 
and  present  to  it  moral  truth  in  its  nobler  forms  and  aspects,  can  not 
help  responding  to  it.  For  the  eye  was  not  made  any  more  for  beauty 
in  the  outward  world  than  a  man's  moral  nature  was  made  for  beauty 
in  the  moral  world.  All  the  inflections  of  benevolence  can  be  made 
to  meet  something  in  every  man,  and  command  its  approbation.  Love, 
in  all  its  moods  and  varieties,  addresses  itself  to  a  corresponding  moral 
sense  in  every  human  bosom.  Conscience,  in  all  f onns  of  truth,  and 
fidelity,  and  honesty,  and  honor,  approves  itself  to  every  man.  Self- 
denial  is  beautiful.  Not,  perhaps,  in  the  monkish  representations  of 
it,  but  m  the  shape  of  patience,  and  endurance,  and  heroic  suffering  well 
borne  for  one's  country.  All  the  world  has  ever  admired  self-denial, 
and  faith,  and  hope,  and  trust,  and  courage,  and  reliance.  These 
qualities  have  always  had  audience  and  admiration,  even  among  sav- 
age nations,  if  they  were  only  made  consciously  visible.  For  savage 
nations  appreciate  what  is  in  them.  The  heroes  of  the  world  have  been 
made  up  of  qualities  which  we  now  understand  to  be  moral  qualities. 
It  was  not  simply  brute  strength  that  made  the  hero :  it  was  brute 
strength  exercised  for  the  sake  of  some  good.  That  is  the  lower  f oi-m 
of  development.  The  Samsons  of  history  were  not  great  wallowing 
giants.  They  were  men  that  suffered  for  country,  and  for  a  cause. 
And  there  was  the  seed  of  a  true  heroism  in  these  things. 

Tlie  heroes  of  the  world  have  been  like  early  pictures.  If  you 
look  at  the  pre-Raphaelite  pictures  in  the  galleries  of  Italy,  and  what 
I  think  to  be  more  significant,  the  early  Flemish  and  German  pictures — 
for  the  German  nature  was  more  sincere  and  deep  than  the  Italian  na- 
ture ;  the  northern  nations  of  Europe  were  more  highly  developed  mor- 
ally than  the  southern — you  will  see  that  the  artists  were  feeling  after 
a  beautiful  thing.  Although  the  drapery  looks  like  tin  for  stiffness 
and  angularity,  and  although  the  postures  are  some  of  them  excessive- 
ly stiff,  and  the  grouping  childish,  yoii  can  not  stand  before  Van  Eyck's 
dictures — I  could  not — without  tears  in  your  eyes.  Tliey  were  beautiful, 
in  spite  of  all  the  infelicities  of  an  early  school  of  painting.     And  so 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  159 

it  has  been  Avith  the  heroes  of  every  age  of  the  world.  Go  back  to 
those  men  whom  nations  have  reverenced,  and  set  aside  the  bad  paint- 
ing, and  you  will  find  that  their  characters  turned  on  some  moral  quali- 
ty, and  that  the  nation  was  thrilled,  and  history  was  made  radiant  by 
it ;  because  the  heart  answers  to  every  exhibition  of  moral  excellence 
or  moral  truth. 

Men  may  not,  as  I  have  said,  be  trained  to  see  truth  in  its  finer  forms ; 
but  there  is  in  every  human  soul  a  constitution  to  which  moral  quali- 
ties aj^peal,  and  which  can  not  help  responding  to  them.  This  is  of 
fundamental  importance  ;  and  vast  use  is  made  of  it  in  Scripture.  We 
shall  also  make  much  use  of  it,  as  you  will  see,  in  the  sequel. 

Thus,  Christian  exj)eriences  are  only  higher  moral  developments  of 
nature  in  the  human  soul.  God's  Spirit  brings  out  in  us  what  our  own 
volition  could  not  achieve.  These  higher  moral  states  or  Christian 
qualities  appeal  to  the  confidence,  the  admiration,  and  the  sympathy 
of  mankind ;  and  that  notwithstanding  men  hate  the  light,  and  oj^pose 
good — for  I  believe  that,  too.  I  believe  that  men  hate  good — yet 
I  believe  that  they  can  not  help  responding  to  the  presentation  of 
goodness.  They  oppose  light,  and  yet  light  is  pleasant  to  them.  But  be- 
cause this  thing  is  true,  it  does  not  follow  that  that  thing  which  is  in 
antagonism  to  it  is  not  true  too.  You  might  as  well  say,  "  It  is  im- 
possible for  a  wheel  to  have .  spokes  running  into  the  hub  from  both 
directions,"  as  to  say  that  there  are  not  opposite  truths.  Truth  is  a 
circle,  and  there  are  antagonistic  truths  on  every  side  of  that  circle. 
Men  oppose  good,  and  admire  good.  Men  hate  good,  and  appreciate 
good.  Men  are  admirers  of  spiritual  things,  and  yet  men  tread  spir- 
itual things  imder  foot,  as  swine  tread  pearls  underneath  their  hoofs. 
Man's  lower  nature  resists  the  supreme  domination  of  the  moral  facul- 
ties. Men  do  not  like  to  be  ruled  by  higher  ideas  than  those  which 
possess  them.  Men  that  live  to  eat  do  not  like  laws,  customs,  or  any 
moral  advice  that  teaches  them  every  day  that  there  is  a  higher  way 
to  live.  No  man  likes  to  have  the  devil  cast  out  of  him.  There  is  as 
much  squealing,  and  running  down  hill,  and  pitching  into  the  sea 
now,  as  there  was  in  the  time  of  our  Saviour.  And  you  will  take 
notice  that,  when  passions  come  out  of  men,  they  generally  take  the 
form  of  hogs !  It  is  the  lower  passions,  it  is  the  animal  after  all, 
that  is  dispossessed ;  and  that  animal  resists.  But  the  higher  facul- 
ties, the  moral  attributes,  have  in  them  a  sympathy  for  the  Christ  that 
appears.  There  is  such  a  relation  between  our  higher  nature,  and  vir- 
tue, and  piety,  and  moral  beauty,  that  you  can  always  pi-esent  one  to 
the  other  with  a  confidence  that  if  nature  hold  true  to  itself,  men  will 
admire  that»  which  is  true,  and  right,  and  divine,  and  noble.  Men  with 
one  pai't  of  their  nature  will  have  a  conscience  toward  God,  will  have 
a  moral  sense  for  truth  and  duty ;  and  yet,  with  another  part  of  their 
nature,  they  will  resist  both. 


160  TEE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

3.  It  is  upon  this  state  of  facts  tliat  our  Master  ordained  tliat 
men  should  carry  their  moral  faculties  up  to  the  highest  degree  of 
excellence.  In  other  words,  it  is  not  enough  for  a  man  to  call  him- 
self a  Christian,  and  join  himself  to  a  Christian  body,  as  if  he  had 
bought  his  ticket  at  the  office,  and  placed  himself  in  the  approj^riate 
car,  and  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done,  and  he  would  be  carried 
to  his  journey's  end  without  any  further  care  on  his  part.  Men 
think  that  the  church  is  a  kind  of  railway-car,  or  steam-packet,  and 
that  we  have  only  to  get  the  right  one  to  be  safe.  They  think  that 
denominations  are  very  much  like  different  lines  of  steamers  ;  and 
that  the  runners  on  each  line,  crying  down  the  others,  and  praising 
their  own,  are  like  the  members  of  the  different  churches,  that  claim 
every  thing  for  their  own,  and  give  no  credit  to  the  others.  Men 
seem  to  think,  "  Only  let  me  get  into  the  church  that  has  apostolicity 
and  orthodoxy  and  catholicity,  and  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  but 
to  go  to  sleep  over  night ;  and  when  I  wake  up  in  the  morning  I  shall 
find  myself  at  my  destination.  It  is  the  church's  business  to  take  me 
through."  That  is  not  the  New  Testament  idea.  In  New  Testament 
times,  there  was  no  church.  There  was  a  brotherhood ;  but  no  such 
oro-anization  as  we  have.  An  organized  institution  I  believe  in,  and 
we  have  a  right  to  have ;  but  the  New  Testament  idea  of  a  church 
was  simply  a  moral  society  of  those  who  had  a  common  faith,  a  com- 
mon hope,  and  a  common  love.  There  was  no  idea  of  a  church  such 
as  has  existed  since  Christ's  time.  And  that  church  which  is  the 
most  positive  about  its  apostolicity  is  the  furthest  removed  from  the 
New  Testament  idea.  There  is  no  church  so  f:ir  from  the  New  Tes- 
tament idea  as  that  one  which  thinks  it  is  the  New  Testament  church, 
and  that  there  is  not  another  church  in  the  world.  It  is  a  crus- 
taceous  church.  It  is  not  the  spiritual  church.  That  church  Avhich 
has  the  most  altars,  the  most  vestments,  the  most  externalities,  the 
most  things  that  appeal  to  the  lower  nature  of  men ;  that  church 
which  has  the  most  physical  embodiment,  and  therefore  occupies  the 
largest  space  in  men's  sight,  is  the  furthest  from  the  true  spiritual 
church.  "The  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you,"  and  the  true  church 
is  always  the  invisible  church.  It  is  the  church  of  spiritual  qualities 
and  moral  powers,  and  not  of  external  objects. 

Our  Master  teaches  us,  that  we  are  to  take  the  moral  qualities 
tvhich  come  to  us  at  our  Christian  birth — when  we  are  by  the  Holy 
Srhost  so  re-created  that  we  can  start  over  again,  as  it  were — and  use 
them  according  to  God's  word,  and  not  according  to  human  precept 
or  human  example.  The  command,  when  we  begin  to  live  Christian 
qualities,  is,  not  that  we  are  to  live  them  simply  far  enough  to  get 
into  the  church,  or  to  be  consistent  Avith  this,  that,  or  the  other 
church,  but  that  we  are  to  take  every  one  of  those  Christian  qualities, 


THE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  161 

and  carry  it  up  to  that  jDoiut  wliere  it  sliall  be  beautiful.  Great 
Christian  experiences  are  not  merely  to  be  held  in  their  lower  forms. 
We  are  not  simply  to  have  a  little  of  them  ;  but  they  are  to  grow  so 
that  they  shall  present  themselves  to  men's  eyes  as  beautiful.  Thei'e 
is  the  nature  of  beauty  in  everyone  of  them.  There  is  not  one  single 
thing  that  we  are  to  do  or  f()rbear  which  is  not  inherently,  intrin- 
sically, morally  beautiful.  And  the  command  of  the  Master  is,  that 
"we  are  to  live  morally,  Christianly,  and  to  carry  every  Christian 
quality  up  in.  such  a  shape  that  it  shall  be  beautiful. 

Then,  next,  it  is  to  be  haninous.  It  is  not  only  to  be  beautiful, 
but  it  is  to  present  itself  to  men's  eyes  so  that  they  shall  say  that  it  is 
beautiful — ^o  that  there  shall  hardly  be  a  choice  left  them.  I  do  not 
care  what  your  opinions  are,  you  never  see  a  heroic  act  that  you 
stop  to  ask  yourself,  "  Shall  T,  or  shall  I  not  admire  ?"  You  never  saw 
a  man  throw  himself  into  the  water,  instantly,  after  some  poor 
drowning  wretch,  and  seize  and  bring  him  out,  that  you  had  a  chance 
to  ask  yourself  whether  you  would  admire  it  or  not.  The  admira- 
tion is  instantaneous.  You  never  saw  a  man  risk  his  life  for  the  sake 
of  befriending  some  poor  child  that  you  had  time  to  ask  yourself,  "Is 
that,  or  is  it  not,  to  be  admired?"  You  admire  first ;  and  some  hours 
,  afterward  you  ask  whether  you  ought  to.  The  mind  is  intui- 
tive and  inspirational  in  such  matters,  and  it  is  generally  right  in 
its  moral  inspirations  and  intuitions,  No  man  can  read  that  story  of 
"Walter  Scott's,  "Mid-Lothian,"  where  Effie  Deans  was  on  trial  for 
her  life,  and  Jeanie  was  to  bear  Avitness,  and  the  saving  of  her  sister's 
life  just  turned  on  the  slightest  evasion  of  the  truth,  and  she  could 
not  lie  even  to  save  her  sister,  but  had  to  tell  the  truth,  and  see  her 
old  father  Ml  dead  to  the  ground,  and  feel  that  the  terrible  enginery 
of  justice  must  x'oll  over  her  heart  and  crush  her — no  man  can  read 
that  story  (I  defy  Maccliiavelli  liimself  to  do  it)  and  not  say  that  it 
■was  beautiful  to  speak  the  truth  under  such  circumstances.  Any 
single  moral  quality  taken  and  presented  to  the  human  soul  strikes 
that  soul's  admiration,  and  it  is  not  left  to  choose  whetlier  it  will 
admire  or  not.  If  I  say,  "  Two  and  two  make  four,'  set  yourself 
against  it  if  you  will*;  you  can  not  help  yourself,  you  are  obliged  to 
say,  "  Two  and  two  make  four."  If  I  say,  "  Two  from  four  leaves  two," 
you  may  cipher  upon  it  as  much  as  you  please,  and  bring  as  much 
logic  to  bear  on  it  as  you  please,  I  know  that  I  have  God  Almighty's 
truth  on  my  side,  and  that  you  will  follow  me  and  say  sc  too.  Let 
a  man  do  a  noble  thing,  and  the  decree  of  God  in  the  constitution  of  the 
hu!nan  soul  makes  every  body  that  sees  it  feel  that  it  is  a  noble  thing. 
And  the  command  of  Christ  is,  first,  that  we  are  to  live  for 
these  higli  spiritual  qualities;  tliat  we  are  to  live  for  them  so  large- 
ly, that  we  are  to  give  them  such  generous  growth  and  culture,  that 


162  THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

they  sliiill  stand  in  us  in  their  real  beauty ;  and  that  then  they  are  to  be 
presented  to  men  so  that,  in  spite  of  themselves,  they  will  be  compelled 
to  f)lorify  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.     That  is  the  function  of  piety. 

The  success  of  the  Gospel  was  made  to  depend  not  on  preaching 
— though  that  was  to  be  an  instrument ;  but  upon  living  men.  There 
is  more  reasoning  in  the  Saviour's  words  than  we  are  apt  to  give  to 
them,  when  he  says,  "  Ye  are  our  epistles."  He  had  been  writing 
epistles,  letters,  to  the  different  churches,  and  he  said,  in  a  blessed 
moment,  "  What  I  am  writing  with  ink  is  not,  after  all,  my  letter ; 
you  are  my  letters  to  the  churches  and  to  the  world.  What  I  am 
striving  to  say  by  the  enginery  of  human  language,  that  you  are  say- 
ing by  the  conduct  of  every  single  day."  And  the  pow-er  of  Chris- 
tianity was  not  to  inhere  in  its  doctrinal  scheme — though  there  was  a 
lower  place  and  function  for  doctrine;  certainly  not  in  its  ecclesias- 
tical organization.  There  was  the  want  of  an  organization  on  a  much 
lower  plane  and  in  a  much  lower  sphere ;  but  the  real  and  true  power 
of  Christianity  was  in  the  fact,  that  the  conduct  required  of  the  dis- 
ciple was  high  up  on  the  moral  scale,  and  that  when  a  man  lived  a 
Christian  life  generously  and  largely,  men  could  not,  by  reason  of 
their  moral  constitution,  resist  admiration  and  sympathy,  but  had  to 
say,  "  It  is  right ;  it  is  true,"  and  glorify  God. 

That  is  the  substance  of  the  text,  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before 
men,  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven."  It  is  a  network  of  decrees,  deep  as  the  moral 
constitution  of  the  human  soul.  It  is  mighty  as  the  very  omnipotence 
which  formed  man's  life  and  nature. 

In  view  of  this,  I  remark. 

1.  Every  Christian  is  so  to  live  that  his  conduct  shall  seem  holy 
and  beautiful.  We  are  apt  to  say,  "I  must  live  so  that  I  shall  be 
right."  But  is  it  your  understanding  of  right,  that  it  can  be  liomely  ? 
In  the  generation  of  it,  in  its  birth-liour,  it  maybe  homely;  but  right, 
in  its  own  nature,  is  intrinsically  beautiful.  We  are  apt  to  say,  "  I 
must  live  justly  ;  I  must  live  so  that  I  shall  be  at  peace  with  my  own 
conscience."  All  that  is  true ;  but  I  tell  you,  there  are  thousands 
of  persons  whose  idea  of  religion  is  correct  An  doctrinal  matters, 
but  whose  doctrine  is  like  a  forest  in  winter — trees  in  outline  ; 
while  Cliristianity  is  like  tlint  same  forest  in  summer,  full  of  leaves 
.ind  blossoms  and  fruit.  More  is  necessary  than  that  you  should 
be  right.  Men  often  say,  "  Only  let  me  know  that  I  am  right,  and 
that  is  all  I  care  for."  It  is  not  all  that  you  ought  to  care  for. 
Right  should  not  only  be  right,  but  beautiful;  and  it  becomes  so 
in  pro])ortion  as  it  works  up  to  its  perfect  form.  Wliere  moral  quali- 
ties produce  an  unpleasant  effect,  it  is  because  they  are  imperfect. 
Moral  qualities  are  like  fruit.     The  apple  that  in  January  calls  forth 


TEE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  163 

my  admiratiou,  in  June  calls  forth  my  detestation,  if  I  taste  it. 
And  thougli  morality,  when  it  is  the  spontaneous  laying  down  of  genius 
and  2)0wer  for  a  moral  purpose  is  transcendently  beautiful,  yet  that 
same  morality,  when  it  is  struggling  and  trying  to  be  born,  or  to  grow, 
seems  like  a  poor  starveling  thing — as  it  is.  But  as  it  becomes  stronger, 
and  goes  up  through  childhood,  and  up  through  manhood,  it  increases 
in  symmetry  and  absol  ute  beauty.  You  can  always  test  your  growth  in 
any  grace  by  the  beautifulness  of  that  grace  in  you ;  for  if  it  is  not  beau- 
tiful, it  is  because  it  is  sour  ;  because  it  is  crude  ;  because  it  is  unripe. 
Tlierefore,  no  person  whose  religion  is  such  as  to  produce  a  disagree- 
able impression  in  his  family  is  a  true  Christian.  Such  persons  may 
escape  into  lieaven ;  but  they  go  in  so  as  by  fire.  Any  person  that 
you  live  with,  and  who  is  less  agreeable  to  you  in  the  respects  in 
which  he  professes  to  be  a  Christian,  and  who  does  not  make  an 
agreeable  impression  upon  you,  is  just  so  fiir  away  from  Christ. 
But  if  I  lived  where  I  saw  a  Roman  priest  who  always  produced 
upon  my  mind  a  salutary  impression,  and  in  whose  conduct  was 
manliness — a  beautiful  manliness  ;  devoutness — a  beautiful  devout- 
ness  ;  richness — a  beautiful^  richness  ;  sweetness — a  beautiful  sweet- 
ness, I  should  instantly  say,  "  This  is  a  Christian  man — a  model  Chris- 
tian man— in  spite  of  his  church,  and  in  spite  of  his  creed."  I  should  in- 
stantly take  him  to  be  my  brother.  I  should  not  stop  to  inquire,  "  What 
is  your  ministry  ?"  If  he  is  living  among  so  many  impediments,  and 
has  risen  above  them  all ;  if  he  is  living  according  to  the  highest 
moral  standard  ;  if  he  is  living  in  such  a  way  that  lean  not  help  ad- 
miring his  character — I  know  that  that  admiration  in  me  is  the  testi- 
mony of  God  to  the  largeness  of  that  man's  growth.  And  on  the 
other  hand,  if  a  man  is  as  crystalline  as  Calvin,  and  has  screwed  up 
every  moral  quality  as  carefully  as  Paganini  every  string  of  his 
violin,  and  yet  it  is  cacophonous,  and  his  character  is  not  such  tliat  I 
can  admire  it,  1  say,  "  Pie  is  not  ripe  ;  he  is  not  perfected ;  I  do  not 
see  the  fruit  in  him  yet."  There  is  nothing  so  beautiful  as  the  human 
soul,  as  God  meant  it  to  be.  There  was  no  key  that  was  ever  struck 
that  had  such  music  as  every  faculty  of  the  human  soul  has  in  it.  And 
when  there  is  complete  harmony,  when  the  whole  diapason  is  brought 
into  action,  and  all  the  passions  become  a  sub-base,  and  the  feet  play 
them,  and  the  hands  play  the  keys,  then  the  lower  tones  become  a 
magnificent  under-current  on  which  the  upper  tones  float.  The  pas- 
sions become  more  than  semi-moral  when  the  upper  part  of  the  soul  is 
all  radiant  and  flashing  with  inspirational  attainments.  God  has  never 
made  any  thing  so  beautiful  as  the  whole  soul  in  its  majesty  of  experience. 
And  this  being  so,  it  is  the  sadness  of  my  l.'fe  that  I  get  so  tired 
of  men  as  I  do.  It  is  my  soul's  sadness  to  think  that  men  behave  so 
that  I  am  tired  of  them.     I  am  tired,  tired,  tired  of  nothing  so  much 


164  •     THE  BEAUTY,  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

as  of  men.  Alas  !  I  am  like  a  musie-teaclier,  that  stands  tlie  whole 
day  teaching  cubs  how  to  paw  the  keys,  and  hears  things  mauled  and 
murdered  until  his  hungry  ear  dies,  almost,  with  his  tasks.  And  he 
that  is  studying  to  lift  up  the  poor  and  strengthen  the  weak  is  in  some 
sense  a  moral  anatomist,  and  a  morbid  one.  There  are  moments  of 
success  and  triumph  when  the  soul  experiences  a  certain  degree  of 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  ;  but  there  come  times  when  to  depart  and 
be  with  Christ  is  a  good  deal  better.  And  I  am  ashamed  to  think 
that  I  feel  such  a  sense  of  relief  when  I  go  into  the  old  hoary  forest, 
and  the  trees  seem  to  me  more  like  companions  than.men  do,  and  I 
can  move  about  with  a  sense  of  friendliness  and  sympathy  with  these 
things,  which  neither  think,  nor  feel,  nor  speak,  nor  do  aught,  but 
which  I  clothe  by  my  imagination  with  more  human  and  humane  at- 
tributes than  men  wear.  The  heavens  are  not  more  beautiful,  there 
is  nothing  more  beautiful  in  the  forest,  or  on  the  sea,  or  among  mighty 
I'ivers,  or  on  vast  continents,  or  in  the  seasons,  or  the  tropics,  or  at  the 
solitary  poles,  north  or  south,  so  sublime  or  beauteous  as  any  single 
soul,  if  only  it  threw  out  its  clusters  of  abundant  fruit.  God  never 
made  any  thing  else  so  beautiful  as  he  made  man.  And  woe  to  the 
world  that  men  are  so  homely !  "Woe  t6  the  world  that  men  have 
sheathed  their  beauty,  and  have  only  thrown  out  the  lower  passions 
— pride,  vanity,  selfishness — things  so  harsh,  unlovely,  hateful,  and 
hating  !  But  oh  !  it  shall  not  be  so  always.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 
the  "  beauty  of  holiness."  Do  you  remember  that  phrase,  "  The  gate 
Beautiful "  ?  Old  Jerusalem  had  a  gate  beautiful.  The  temple  had 
such  a  gate.  And  through  such  a  gate  every  man  ought  to  go  to  be 
converted.  His  moral  developments,  his  zeal,  his  benevolence,  his  love, 
his  humility,  his  meekness,  his  faith,  his  hopes,  his  reliance,  his  cou- 
rage, his  activity,  his  self-denial,  every  one  of  his  moral  qualities, 
ought  to  be  so  rounded  out,  and  so  carried  up,  in  the  heavenly  sum- 
mer, that  every  one  of  them  should  be  sweeter  than  vine  or  blossom- 
ing meadow.  Then  men  would  be  transcendently  beautiful.  Twen- 
ty men  made  beautiful  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  would  be  an  army 
that  would  sweep  around  the  globe,  and  nothing  could  resist  them. 
That  man  Paul — the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived  on  earth,  I  think — 
had  a  soul  that  is  sounding  on  yet,  and  that  will  sound  on  to  the  end 
of  time,  because  it  carries  in  it  so  much  of  beauty.  Oh  !  for  a  church  of 
such  men.  Oh  !  for  a  community  of  such  men.  We  do  not  knos 
any  thing  yet  of  the  power  of  Christianity. 

2.  The  impressions  which  a  church  makes  on  the  moral  conscious- 
ness of  the  community  in  which  it  lives  is  a  fair  test  of  its  life  and 
power.  I  do  not  mean  that  every  church  will  be  loved  ;  but  I  do  hold 
that,  even  in  the  imperfection  of  human  development  and  character, 
every  church  is  bound  to  produce  in  the  community  an  impression  that 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  165 

the  average  membersbip  lives  on  a  higher  plane  than  other  men.  We 
are  to  make  a  distinction  between  individual  members  and  the  collec- 
tive wliole.  Because  there  were,  among  the  hundred  faiMilies  at  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  or  the  St,  Nicholas,  or  the  Metrojjolitan,  five  or 
six  disreputable  persons,  you  would  not  say  that  the  hotel  was  dis- 
reputable. We  know  that  the  bad  go  with  the  good.  And  it  is  not 
right  to  cry  down  a  church,  instancing  single  persons  as  an  index  of 
the  whole.  There  will  be  traitors  in  every  band.  One  twelfth  of 
Christ's  band  of  disciples  were  traitors.  But  I  do  not  believe  one 
twelfth  in  this  cliurcli,  or  in  any  of  the  sister  churches  round  about 
us,  are  bad.  Thei'e  are,  however,  in  every  churcli,  some  that  are  not 
Avorthy  to  be  in  it.  But  the  average  impression  produced  by  a  chui-ch 
in  a  community  upon  the  best  natures  in  that  community,  taking  it 
from  year  to  year,  is  a  fair  test.  That  is  to  say,  if  I  have  a  seal,  and 
I  stamp  with  if  day  after  day,  and  men  come  and  look  to  see  what 
impression  is  made,  and  they  see  that  there  is  some  picture  there,  but 
can  not  tell  what  it  is — whether  it  be  dragon,  or  eagle,  or  liberty-caj) 
— it  is  fair  to  say  that  that  seal  does  not  answer  the  purpose  for  which 
it  was  intended.  If  when  it  is  used  to  stamp  on  paper,  or  wax,  it 
makes  no  impression  that  can  be  distinguished,  it  is  of  little  value 
*as  a  seal. 

And  so  it  is  with  churches.  Many  churches  live  so  that  you  can 
not  tell  whether  the  impression  they  make  is  of  Christ  or  of  Belial.  It 
is  blurred  ;  tiiere  is  nothing  clear  or  distinct.  There  are  many  churches 
whose  impression  is  sharp  and  clear,  and  is  of  St.  George  and  the 
dragon,  the  dragon  being  twice  as  large  as  St.  George.  There  are 
many  churches  in  which  it  is  only  a  higlier  form  of  respectable 
V  orldliness  that  is  manifested.  There  are  many  churches  that  live 
According  to  the  prevailing  fashions.  There  are  hundreds  of  places 
that  are  excellent  places  of  resort.  There  are  plenty  of  churches 
where  you  can  see  the  best-dressed  people,  and  the  most  prosperous 
people.  There  are  churches  that  are  nothing  but  religious  mutual 
insurance  companies,  and  that  agree  to  insure  each  other  in  this 
world  and  the  world  to  come.  And  the  community  look  upon  them 
and  say,  "  Well,  these  are  well-to-do  religious  people,  who  on  week 
days  live  in  brown-stone  houses,  and  on  Sunday  in  brown-stone 
churches — lucky  fellows  !"  I  wonder  that. you  do  not  put  up  some  of 
the  true  names  over  churches — "Church  of  the  Lucky  Families;" 
"  Church  of  the  First  Class;"  "  Church  of  People  that  are  not  Vulgar ;" 
"Church  of  Prosperous  Men;"  "  Churcli  of  the  Long  Purse,"  and  so 
on.  These  titles  would  be  very  api)ropriate  for  some  churclies,  judg- 
ing from  the  average  impression  produced  by  them  on  the  community. 
And  I  shall  not  shrink  from  having  them  applied  to  me  and  to  you, 
60  far  as  we  deserve  them.   We  must  stand  on  our  own  merits.     The 


166  THE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

truth  does  not  turn  out  of  its  course  for  any  body      The  truth  must 
be  spoken,  if  the  heavens  fall. 

The  average  imj^ression  produced  by  the  members  of  any  church 
in  a  community  determines  how  Christian  or  how  unchristian  they 
are.  This  is  an  immutable  principle.  And  there  is  a  morai  organ- 
ization in  the  human  soul  that  responds  to  moral  truth  wherever  it  is 
found.  And  if,  on  the  average,  Ave,  being  Christians,  make  such  an 
impression  upon  the  consciousness  of  the  world  that  they  say  they 
are  better  than  we  are,  we  are  not  living  Christianly.  We  are  bound 
to  live,  not  only  so  that  our  Christian  character  shall  be  beautiful, 
but  that  it  shall  appear  so.  We  are  not  to  be  mere  paupers  on  other 
men's  good  opinions,  but  are  to  commarid  men's  opinions  about  us. 
It  is  the  prerogative  of  power,  not  to  take,  but  to  command.  We  are 
bound  to  live  so  that  the  children  in  our  families  shall  say  of  us, 
"  They  are  Christians."  We  are  bound  to  live  so  that  men  of  other 
churches  shall  say,  "  What  a  pity  that  such  good  people  do  not  belong 
to  our  sect !"  For  you  know  Christ  is  like  a  sportsman,  who  has 
jDockets  here,  and  pockets  there,  and  pockets  everywhere  that  he 
can  find  places  for  them  in  his.clotiies.  And  imagine  a  feud  spring- 
ing up  among  these  pockets.  One  pocket  says,  "I  am  a  thousand 
times  better  than  that  jijocket."  Another  says,  "  No  ;  you  are  low* 
down  ;  you  are  a  little  miserable,  schismatic  pocket  down  there.  I 
am  an  apostolic  pocket  up  here."  All  sects  are  merely  pockets  in  the 
garments  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  it  does  not  make  any  dif- 
ference whether  you  go  to  heaven  in  a  side  pocket  or  in  a  skirt  pock- 
et. To  get  into  heaven  is  the  main  thing,  after  all.  But  these 
pocketous  sects,  looking  upon  this  good  priest  or  that  good  minister, 
Bay,  "  What  a  pity  he  is  not  in  my  pocket !"  It  is  much  more  impor- 
tant that  you  should  by  your  life  produce  such  an  effect  that  you 
should  desire  each  other,  than  that  you  sho«ld  be  in  any  particular 
church.  The  thing  is,  to  live  so  that  your  life  shall  be  a  witness  of 
truth,  and  piety,  and  godliness. 

I  need  not  say  how  this  compares  with  what  are  sometimes  called 
reforming  churches.  God  calls  men  to  work  for  reforms ;  but  he 
never  calls  them  to  work  for  reforms  as  if  they  were  crocodiles.  I 
really  think  the  gi'eatest  obstacle  to  some  reformations  is  the  ugliness, 
the  harshness,  the  bitterness,  the  uncharitableness,  the  unsymmetry, 
the  moral  unbeauty,  of  the  men  who  advocate  them.  The  reforms 
are  well  enough  ;  but  I*  can  not  swallow  the  reformers.  Reformers 
must  be  fighters  ;  but  the  prescription  of  the  Bible  is,  "  Speaking  the 
truth  in  lovey  You  can  not  speak  the  truth  in  love,  and  be  long  un- 
,  beautiful.  The  man  that  can  thunder  one  moment,  and  shed  tears  the 
next,  is  the  man  that  is  most  likely  to  carry  a  reform.  The  man  that 
knows  how  to  be  gentle  and  sweet ;  the  man  that  stands  up  for  the 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  167 

truth,  and  is  patient,  and  glorious  in  his  patience  ;  the  man  that  is 
not  daunted  by  oj^position,  but  that  is  not  embittered,  and  carries  him- 
self sweetly  and  beautifully  in  the  midst  of  oppositions — that  man  is 
the  true  reformer.  Reforms  do  not  need  malign  passions,  like  fire 
under  a  cauldron,  to  give  them  success.  He  is  the  true  reformer  who 
presents  truth  and  principle  in  attractive  forms.  A  cause  is  made 
beautiful  by  the  radiancy  of  the  man  that  j^resents  it.  No  Christian 
man  has  any  excuse  for  leaving  an  impression  on  the  time  in  which 
he  lives  that  he  is  unchristian.  The  fact  that  it  is  a  time  of  strife  and 
battle  is  no  excuse.  Coeur  de  Lion  was  a  man,  every  inch,  in  time  of 
battle.  A  true  warrior  was  he,  without  reproach.  He  would  not  do 
a  mean  thing  in  the  struggle  any  more  than  out  of  it.  He  was  as  much 
a  man  in  battle  as  out  of  battle.  And  so  we  are  to  stand  up  for  the 
truth,  and  to  be  brave  men,  not  fearing  men  or  the  devil ;  and  yet 
we  are  to  be  lovely  while  we  are  doing  it.  We  are  never  to  employ 
our  malign  feelings  for  the  sake  of  gaining  power  or  material  by 
which  to  enforce  the  truth,  Avhich  is  always  beautiful. 

3.  If  this  be  so,  we  shall  say,  likewise,  that  the  Bible  is  a  book  of 
superstition — only  the  superstition  is  in  yoii,  and  not  in  the  Bible. 
Men  think  that  the  Bible  is  in  such  a  sense  sacred  that  there  is  a 
moral  quality  in  paper  and  in  type.  If  a  man  should  sit  on  the  Bible 
accidentally,  and  see  what  it  was,  he  would  jump  as  if  a  serpent  had 
bitten  him.  He  would  feel  as  if  he  had  committed  a  sin  almost,  it  was 
so  sacred.  And  children  are  taught  not  only  to  believe  the  Bible,  but  to 
reverence  it,  and  almost  to  go  on  tiptoe  in  the  presence  of  it.  It  may 
minister  to  good  instruction ;  but  still  there  are  a  great  many  peo|)le 
who  respect  the  Bible  very  much  as  the  African  does  his  amulet.  As 
a  man  regards  an  amulet,  so  Christians  regard  certain  things  in  which 
they  think  there  is  an  influence  of  holiness,  and  which  they  think 
emit  a  holy  fragrance.  Many  men  who  never  read  the  Bible  or  study 
it  think  that  somehow  or  other  it  will  do  them  good.  Many  people 
make  the  Bible  a  mere  charm. 

See  how  this  superstition  is  played  ujjon.  A  man  comes  into 
court  to  swear,  or  affirm;  and  the  judge  says  to  him,  "Hold  up  your 
hand."  The  clerk  stops  him,  and  says,  "  Are  you  a  Protestant  ?" 
If  he  answers,  "No,"  the  judge  calls  for  the  Bible.  A  Protestant 
swears  with  his  hand  up  ;  but  a  Catholic  must  put  his  hand  on  the 
Bible.  But  ah  !  that  would  not  do  ;  there  is  a  refinement  on  that.  If 
it  is  a  plain  Bible,  he  will  put  his  hand  on  it  very  boldly ;  but  turn  it 
over,  and  show  him  a  cross  on  the  other  side,  and  you  can  not  get  him 
to  i3ut  his  hand  on  it  falsely.     So  you  have  charm  iipon  charm. 

A  great  many  people  think  that  the  Bible  is  a  very  sacred  book. 
I  will  tell  you  how  it  is  a  sacred  book.  If  you  read  this  book,  and 
find  moral  qualities  in  it,  and  they  are  transferred  as  living  virtues 


168  TEE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

to  you,  then  to  you  it  becomes  a  sacred  book.  This  book  is  sacred 
to  you  just  so  far  as  its  teachings  are  incorporated  in  your  experi- 
ence and  feelings,  and  not  a  bit  further.  All  that  part  of  the  Bible 
is  Bible  to  you  which  you  live  by.  So  much  of  the  Bible  as  you 
vitalize  is  valuable  to  you ;  but  so  much  of  it  as  you  do  not  vitalize 
is  of  no  use  to  you. 

You  put  your  Bible  in  your  book-case.  There  it  stands  all  the 
week,  perhaps.  Or,  you  read  it  once  a  day,  or  once  a  week,  as  the 
case  may  be.  And  you  do  it  very  decorously.  The  room  is  still, 
and  your  children  sit  around  the  room  in  a  stiff  row.  You  put  on 
your  spectacles  and  read ;  and  as  you  read,  you  lower  the  key  of  your 
voice — for  when  men  want  to  be  religious,  they  always  take  a  solemn 
note ;  and  you  read  all  the  Avay  through  the  chapter,  and  are  like  a 
blind  man  walking  along  a  road  where  "there  are  all  sorts  of  flowers 
on  both  sides,  never  seeing  a  single  one.  Men  read  thus,  and 
feel  a  great  deal  better  because  they  have  read  the  Bible  to  their 
family !  Now,  I  tell  you,  the  only  thing  you  read  in  the  Bible  is 
that  which  jumps  into  you,  and  which  you  can  not  get  out  of  you. 
It  is  the  vital,  luminous  part,  and  not  the  dead  letter  that  you  read, 
if  you  read  any  part  of  the  Bible. 

SujDpose  I  should  set  up  housekeeping  on  the  same  principle  that 
some  people  set  up  their  religious  housekeeping  ?  A  man  goes  to 
housekeeping,  and  gets  a  Bible,  with  his  name  on  the  inside,  and  his 
name  on  the  outside,  and  puts  it  on  the  table,  in  his  best  room  ;  and  there 
it  lies  for  months  and  years  without  being  opened — unless  there  is  a 
funeral  in  the  family!  Suppose  I  should  go  to  housekeeping,  and  should 
give  an  order  to  the  grocer  for  three  boxes  of  sjjerm  candles,  saying, 
"  I  am  going  to  have  a  luminous  house,"  and  should  put  those  can- 
dles away  in  the  attic,  and  never  light  one  of  them  ?  What  is  the 
use  of  candles  but  to  burn  ?  That  is  the  very  figure  of  our  Master. 
He  says,  "  No  man  puts  a  candle  under  a  bushel,  but  he  lights  it  and 
puts  it  on  a  candlestick." 

So  much,  then,  of  the  Bible,  as  you  take  out,  as  a  candle,  lighting 
it,  you  read  ;  and  so  much  of  it  is  to  you  a  living  oracle — no  more. 
There  is  a  vast  amount  of  superstition  about  the  Bible  even  in  the 
Protestant  churches. 

There  are  many  other  points  of  application  which  time  forbids  me 
to  dwell  upon ;  but  I  will  make  only  a  single  other. 

No  man  has  a  right,  who  is  called  of  God  and  made  a  new  crea- 
ture by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  has  in  him  the  insi^irations 
of  divine  love  and  truth,  and  believes  himself  to  be  a  pilgrim  to  the 
other  land,  and  to  be  an  heir  with  Jesus  Christ — no  such  man  has  a 
right  to  live  a  hidden  life.  There  are  a  great  many  persons  who,  for 
reasons  of  conscience,  or  reasons  of  caution,  or  reasons  of  approbation, 


THE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  169 

or  reasons  of  interest,  witlaliold  tliemselves  from  an  open  avowal  of 
tlieir  adliesion  to  Clirist,  and  of  their  real  Christian  life.  But  a  man 
who  lives  so  that  men  do  not  know  that  he  is  a  Christian,  is  not  one. 
If  yon  sneceed  in  hiding  your  piety  from  men,  yon  Avill  succeed 
in  hiding-  it  from  God,  too.  The  very  idea  of  piety  is  luminous- 
ness. 

I  have  no  overweening  attachment  to  the  church  as  a  physical  or- 
ganization. I  am  rather  under  than  over  the  line  on  that  subject.  I 
believe  that  the  church  is  useful ;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  any  par- 
ticular church  on  the  face  of  the  globe  is  ordained  of  God.  I  do  not 
believe  one  church  is  any  better  than  anothev  so  far  as  ordinance  is 
concerned.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  any  pattern  whatsoever  laid 
down  in  the  New  Testament  according  to  which  churches  should  be 
organized.  I  believe  that  churches  stand  on  the  same  ground  that 
common  schools  and  literary  institutions  do.  They  are  found  to  be  use- 
ful, and  to  promote  man's  g'-owth,  and  so  they  are  right.  Churches 
stand  on  the  same  ground  that  governments  stand  on.  God  did  not 
ordain  a  republican  government,  or  a  monarchical  government, 'or  a 
mixed  govei'nment.  He  created  men  social  beings,  so  that  they  need- 
ed governments,  and  left  them  to  choose  such  as  they  Avanted.  I  be- 
lieve there  is  that  in  every  human  being  whicli  needs  association  and 
society  for  the  best  development  of  itself;  but  what  the  particular 
form  of  that  association  or  society  should  be  has  not  been  prescribed 
Every  church  is  good  enough  that  answers  the  purposes  of  a  church. 
Every  government  is  good  enough  that  answers  the  purposes  of  a 
government. 

All  churches  are  therefore  in  some  sense  apostolic,  but  no  church 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  is  apostolic  in  the  sense  of  having  descended 
from  the  apostles.  Those  churches  are  supreme  impertinences  that 
undertake  to  say  that  they  present  to  the  world  the  line  and  linea- 
ment of  the  architect  of  Peter  or  Paid.  There  is  no  vestige  of  any 
ordinances  that  they  handed  down  to  us.  You  might  as  well  say 
that  they  gave  us  patterns  of  houses  to  live  in,  as  that  they  gave  ns 
patterns  of  ordinances.  I  believe  that  ordinances,  external  fo;;ms,  are 
matters  of  utter  indifference.  Baptism  is  baptism,  wdiether  it  be  af- 
fusion, or  sprinkling,  or  immersion.  The  Lord's  Supper,  if  it  be  ad- 
ministered by  a  pope,  is  good  enough  ;  if  it  be  administered  by  a  car- 
dinal-, it  is  good  enough ;  if  it  be  administered  by  a  priest  or  a  minister, 
it  is  good  enough ;  if  it  be  administered  by  the  father  in  the  family, 
it  is  good  enough;  and  if  there  is  no  one-else  to  administer  it,  and 
you  administer  it  to  yourself,  it  is  just  as  good.  The  Lord's  Supper 
belongs  to  every  man  that  belongs  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and  he 
has  just  as  much  right  to  administer  it  to  himself  as  to  have  it  ad- 
ministered to  him  by  a  priest. 


170  THE  BEAUTY  0^  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

In  regard  to  cluii'clies,  ordinances,  and  governments,  I  take  the 
broadest  ground,  and  say  that  they  are  useful,  but  that  there  is  not 
one  of  them  that  is  obligatory,  as  having  warrant  in  ScrijDture  ;  and  no 
man  can  come  to  us  saying,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  in  respect  to  them. 
But  while  I  hold  that  broad  and  catholic  ground,  I  say  that  because 
the  gathering  together  of  men  for  good  and  holy  purposes  has  for 
generations  and  ages  been  proved  to  be  useful,  therefore  it  is  a  duty. 
The  experience  of  nations  has  shown  that  men  can  not  well  live  secret 
Christian  lives,  and  that  it  is  far  better  that  they  should  make  a  piiblic 
profession  of  their  religious  faith,  and  live  open  and  disclosed  lives ; 
and  hence  men  are  boimd  to  let  the  world  know  that  they  are  Chi-is- 
tians.  Select  what  communion  you  please ;  but  somewhere  you  should 
stand  up  before  men  and  openly  avow  your  adhesion  to  Christ,  because 
it  is  the  testimony  of  centuries  that  such  a  course  is  best.  You  are 
bound  to  bear  witness  that  the  life  you  now  live  in  the  flesh,  you  live 
by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  you,  and  gave  himself  for  you. 
You  have  no  right  to  be  a  secret  Christian.  You  have  no  right  to 
hide  your  piety.  You  have  no  right  to  allow  men  to  say  of  you,  ■'  He 
is  a  moralist,  but  he  is  not  a  Christian."  You  are  bound  to  let  your 
light  shine.  You  are  bound  to  be  an  eminent  Christian,  so  that  your 
Chi'istianity  shall  be  apparent  to  all  men.  You  are  bound  to  be  a 
Christian ;  and  then  you  are  bound  to  make  an  open  declaration,  just 
as  when  we  marry.  Do  you  suppose  that  is  the  wedding,  when  the 
young  man  and  his  blushing  bride  stand  up  and  exchange  vows  ?  The 
wedding  took  place  when  their  two  hearts  rushed  together  as  one,  and 
when  they  clasped  each  other,  and  said,  "  Thine  for  life ;  mine  for  life." 
Their  soiils  are  married  first ;  but  they  are  obliged  then  to  stand  up 
before  law  and  institution  and  custom,  and  openly  say,  "  This  is  what 
we  have  done."  This  declarative  and  oj^en  wedding  is  necessary  for 
morality,  for  decency,  for  reasons  right  and  proper.  The  marriage  of 
the  souls  comes  first.  Afterward  there  is  the  i-eaffirmation  before  men. 
And  every  soul  ought  to  be  married  to  Christ.  Every  soul  should 
clasp  him  Avith  secret  faith.  And  then  there  should  be  the  standing 
up  and  bearing  outward,  joublic  testimony  before  men. 

My  Christian  brethren,  I  take  my  share  of  this  truth.  I  have  great 
comfort  in  one  of  Paul's  declarations.  After  he  had  set  forth  the  ideal 
of  godliness,  after  he  had  painted  a  glowing  picture  of  it,  the  thought 
occurred  to  him,  "  These  people  may  perhaps  say,  '  Do  you  live  so 
high  as  that  ?  Are  you  as  good  as  that  ?'  "  And  then  he  said,  "  Not  that 
I  have  attained."  Every  man  ought  to  preach  a  hundred  times  better 
than  he  practices.  It  is  a  vulgar  and  absurd  fling  that  men  make  when 
they  say,  "  Do  you  practice  as  much  as  you  preach  ?"  I  should  be 
ashamed  if  I  did  not  make  my  ideal  travel  faster  than  my  hands  and 
feet.    I  am  not  half  so  good  a  man  as  I  tell  you  to  be.     I  am  not  half 


TEE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  171 

so  good  a  minister  as  I  ought  to  he.  I  know  my  own  imperfections. 
"  I  count  not  myself  to  have  apprehended ;  but  this  one  thing  I  do,  for- 
getting those  things  which  are  beliind,  and  reacliing  forth  unto  those 
things  which  are  before,  I  jjress  toward  the  mark  for  tlie  prize  of  the 
high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  I  see  what  the  way  is,  and  I  am 
trymg,  according  to  my  feeble  strength,  to  Avalk  in  that  way.  And 
I  make  it  bi-oader  and  plainer  to  you ;  hoping  that  many  of  you  will 
be  a  great  deal  better  Christians  than  I  am,  I  do  not  envy  you.  If 
God  gives  me  grace  to  stand,  as  by  fire,  in  his  pi-esence,  and  I  see  go- 
ing up  by  ranks  far  above  me,  you  that  I  have  taught,  you  that  I 
have  baptized,  you  that  I  have  led  out  of  mighty  sins  and  temptations, 
1  shall  not  envy  you.  It  will  be  enough  to  have  the  least  place  in 
heaven,  and  join  with  you  in  the  common  praise  and  thanksgiving  to 
God. 

Let  us  every  one  press  forward,  open,  avowed  Christians,  carry- 
ing Christian  truth  in  Chiistian  love  and  Christian  contentment,  m  the 
beauty  of  holinesss. 

PRAYER    BEFORE    THE    SERMOl^. 

Grant,  our  Father,  that  all  the  ciouds  that  lie  between  us  and  the  heavenly 
g'ate  may  be  parted,  at  least  at  times,  that  we  may  renew  our  faith,  and  refresh 
our  hope  in  the  belief  of  the  coming  joy  and  rest  of  the  heavenly  land.  Grant 
that  we  may  see  how  great  is  the  glory  of  the  saints,  and  how  blessed  the  estate 
of  just  men  made  perfect.  And  may  we  so  desire  the  perfection  of  the  other  state 
that  we  shall  be  willing  to  bear  the  furnace  and  the  anvil,  whilst  thou  dost  cleanse 
US  by  the  fire  and  form  us  by  the  hammer.  Grant  that  we  may  neither  mourn 
nor  despond  because  thou  art  dealing  with  us  as  with  children.  Grant  that  we 
may  have  such  a  desire  for  the  things  of  manhood,  and  of  Christian  manhood, 
that  we  may  so  desire  to  stand  in  eminence  of  virtue  and  of  true  piety,  that  all 
the  suiferiug  which  it  costs  shall  seem  to  us  as  a  trifle — as  the  very  dust.  May 
we  long  to  have  that  purity  of  heart  which  shall  enable  us  to  see  God.  "WTiat  is 
there  to  be  seen,  what  picture,  what  vision,  what  beauty  anywhere,  that  can  com- 
pare with  the  sight  of  our  Lord'.  What  attainment,  what  riches,  what  mere 
earthly  joys  are  there  that  can  compare  with  the  joys  which  thou  hast  in  reserve, 
and  a  foretaste  of  which  thou  dost  grant  to  thy  people  by  the  way  ?  Oh  !  give  to 
us  such  a  sense  of  thy  being,  and  of  thy  nearness  to  us,  and  of  the  reality  of  life 
beyond  the  grave  ;  grant  that  we  may  have  such  a  clasping  faith  by  which  to  take 
hold  of  all  that  are  gone  out  from  among  us,  and  are  standing  a  little  way  apart 
because  a  little  way  above  us,  that  we  may  every  day  live  as  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible,  and  by  faith  in  the  invisible  world. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  temper  thy  providences  according  to  our  strength. 
Lay  not  upon  us  burdens  which  break  us  clear  down  to  the  earth,  but  give  us 
strength  that  we  may  lift  the  cross,  and  then  be  lifted  by  it. 


172  THE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  tliee,  that  we  may  know  how  to  sacrifice  sin,  and  how  to 
crucify  the  affections  which  are  foreign  to  a  divine  life.  All  that  is  hateful,  all 
that  is  carnal,  all  that  is  selfish,  all  that  is  soul-humbling — grant  that  we  may 
know  how  to  overcome  it.  May  we  know  how  to  lay  aside  every  weight.  Grant 
that  we  may  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  our  Master,  and  become  worthy  soldiers 
under  such  a  banner  as  Christ's.  Deliver  us,  we  beseech  of  thee,  from  the  power 
of  the  world  in  which  we  live.  May  we  have  dominion  over  it,  and  not  it  over 
us.  May  we  be  long  patient  with  men.  May  we  not  seek  to  magnify  their  faults, 
nor  desire  to  punish  them.  May  they  be  ours  in  the .  spirit  of  our  Master, 
to  heal.  May  we  overcome  evil  with  good.  May  we  be  palient,  and  long  suffer- 
ing. And  while  we  abhor  that  which  is  evil,  and -cleave  to  that  which  is  good, 
may  it  be  in  mercy.  May  we  seek  rather  to  build  up  than  to  cast  down  ;  to  beau- 
tify, than  to  mar  ;  may  we  learn  to  live  so  that  our  whole  life  shall  be  luminous  ; 
so  that  men  shall  know  that  we  are  Christ's,  as  we  know  which  are  flowers,  and 
which  are  not. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  God  !  that  we  may  this  day  draw  near  to  thee  to 
confess  all  our  sius.  May  we  seek  to  hide  nothing  from  thee.  May  we  rejoice 
that  we  have  a  place  so  safe  where  we  can  disburden  our  guilt,  and  make  men- 
tion of  all  our  imperfections  and  faults.  We  do  not  come  to  make  confession  at 
thy  feet,  driven  hither.  We  come  gladly.  Not  more  gli^id  are  laborers  to  wash 
their  wearied  bodies  in  the  cooling  stream,  and  cleanse  themselves  for  health  and 
cheer,  than  are  we  to  confess  to  thee  in  those  hours  when  our  soul  needs  to  con- 
fess ;  needs  to  cleanse  itself  in  the  air  of  love,  in  the  divine  confidence,  certain  that 
God  is  not  angry,  and  will  not  reveal,  nor  smile  in  contempt.  He  will  not  chide. 
He  will  not  make  mention  again  of  our  transgressions.  With  loving-kindness 
more  than  a  mother's  or  a  father's,  thou  wilt  lift  up  those  that  confess  their  sin  to 
thee,  and  wilt  give  them  strength  to  overcome  it,  and  wilt  lead  them  up  step  by 
step  and  range  by  range,  until  they  stand  .perfected  in  true  holiness. 

O  Lord  !  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  teach  us  to  abhor  that  which  is  evil  in  our- 
selves more  than  in  others.  May  we  be  charitable  to  others,  but  uncharitable  to 
ourselves,  utterly  refusing  to  palliate,  or  to  in  any  way  soften  our  own  offenses. 
May  we  desire  to  be  scourged  with  our  own  honest  thoughts.  May  we  desire  to 
measure  ourselves  more  fully  than  other  men  measure  us,  and  require  of  ourselves 
more  than  they  require  of  us.  Toward  others  may  we  be  gentle  and  beauteous. 
May  we  be  easy  to  be  entreated.  May  we  desire  that  which  is  good  in  them. 
May  we  not  love  that  which  is  evil,  to  see  it,  or  to  report  it.  May  we  desire  rather 
to  build  men  up  in  Christian  faith  and  Christian  purity.  Forgive  us  that  we 
have  been  so  uncharitable  in  days  that  are  past,  and  forgive  us  if  still  the  poison 
linger  in  us.  Oh !  grant  that  we  may  see  the  beauty  and  the  power  of  love,  and 
that  we  may  feel  the  sweet  blessedness  of  this  experience  in  our  own  souls.  Oh  ! 
may  we  speak  its  language,  and  be  prepared  thus  to  speak  the  heavenly  language. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  thy  people,  now,  that  are  offering  their  gifts 
to  thee— their  gratitude,  their  affections,  their  supplications,  and  their  desires. 


TEE  BEAUTY  OF  MORAL    QUALITIES.  1V3 

Lord  Jesus,  speak  to  every  heart  in  tliy  presence,  that  it  may  know  that  it  ia 
heard.  May  every  one  know  that  Christ  hath  called  him  by  name.  Be  thou  a 
Friend  to  every  one,  and  make  every  one  feel  that  he  is  dear  to  thee. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  every  one  of  thy  people  to  bear 
the  lot  and  burden  which  thou  hast  appointed  for  him.  May  we  not  believe  that 
trouble  comes  from  the  ground.  May  we  not  relieve  the  moment's  pain  and  ache 
believing  that  it  comes  only  from  blind  natural  law.  May  every  one  be  composed 
and  stable,  and  believe  that  our  heavenly  Father  manages  life  and  ourselves,  and 
permeates  all  things,  and  causes  all  things  to  work  together  for  good  to  those 
that  love  him. 

Grant  that  we  may  accept  our  troubles  as  a  part  of  the  divine  commission. 
May  we  seek  not  so  much  to  be  rid  of  them  as  to  turn  them  to  account.  May  we 
graft  the  thorn  with  the  rose,  and  though  the  thorn  may  be  there,  may  there  be 
blossoms  mounting  over  the  vine.  Grant  that  we  may  learn  the  lessons  of  peace 
from  the  lips  of  sorrow;  that  with  heart-ache,  we  may  learn  heart-joy.  May  we 
not  think  that  it  is  for  us  to  live  here  forever,  nor  seek  to  build  foundations  deeper 
or  broader.  Who  can  build  so  that  death  shall  not  ransack  all  his  works  ?  Oh ! 
that  we  might  live  in  our  own  thought  for  a  better  manhood,  for  immortality, 
and  for  glory !  May  we  not  seek,  therefore,  to  compass  the  great  ends  of  joy  in 
this  world.  May  we  look  forward.  May  we  walk  together  as  pilgrims  seeking 
that  other  and  better  city,  whose  Builder  and  whose  Maker  is  God.  There,  in 
that  city,  are  the  blessed.  There,  our  hearts  tell  us  are  ours — our  children,  our 
parents,  brothers  and  sisters  that  are  dear  to  us,  and  companions  many.  And 
though  we  hear  them  not  outwardly,  yet  we  hear  them ;  and  though  we  see 
them  not  outwardly,  we  behold  them  ;  and  though  we  are  separated  from  them 
we  were  never  so  near  to  them  ;  and  though  they  are  gone,  they  are  everlastingly 
present ;  and  though  they  are  dead,  they  live,  and  live  forever.  It  is  we  that  are 
dead,  and  they  that  are  alive.  Grant  that  there  may  come  to  us  thr^jigh  faith 
and  trust  that  spiritual  awaking  by  which  the  absent  shall  be  present,  and  the 
unseen  shall  be  visible,  and  things  that  are  not,  mightier  upon  us  and  in  us  than 
things  that  are.  So  may  we  live,  in  the  midst  of  this  world,  evermore,  not  far 
from  thee,  within  the  sound  of  thy  voice,  that  at  last  when  thou  shalt  call  us  in 
death,  it  shall  be  as  the  sound  of  music  to  us — a  joyful  call,  long  waited  for. 
And  may  we  follow  quicker  than  the  soldier  follows  his  trumpet ;  quicker  than 
love  follows  the  voice  of  love.  '  May  we,  when  death  shall  call  us,  rejoice  to  de- 
part and  be  with  Christ,  which  is  better  than  life. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  evermore.    Amen, 


174  THE  BEAUTY   OF  MORAL    QUALITIES. 


PRAYE-R  AFTER  THE   SERMOif. 

Our  Father,  wilt  thou  bless  the  word  spoken.  Grant  that  it  may  do  good  to 
every  one.  Cleanse  us  from  superstition  ;  from  misconception ;  from  narrow  and 
degrading  apprehensions  of  truth.  Bring  us  into  the  vital  sympathy  of  thine 
own  self.  Breathe  upon  us,  and  brood  upon  us.  Give  life  from  thine  own  life. 
And  grant  that  we  may  so  live  that  men  shall  think  that  religion  is  more  beauti- 
ful than  nature  ;  that  Christ  is  transcendently  heroic  ;  that  all  men  may  desire  to 
be  ranked  under  his  banner,  and  called  by  his  name,  and  accepted  in  his  name. 
And  to  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit  shall  be  the  praise.    Amen.  * 


XI. 

THE    PROBLEM 


OF 


Joy  and  Suffering  in  Life. 


THE 

PfiOBLEM  OF  Joy  and  Suffering  in  Life. 

4 

SUNDAY  MORNING,  MAT  23,  1869. 


"  Hbk  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace." — Prov.  iii.  I/', 
"  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation  ;  but  be  of  good  cheer :     I  have  over- 
come the  world." — John  xvi.  33. 


The  Old  Testament  is  a  bright  and  sunny  book,  and  represents 
virtue  and  obedience  as  bringing  forth  the  most  pleasant  fruits  ;  and 
one,  in  reading  it,  would  be  apt  to  get  the  idea  that  a  moral  and  God- 
fearing man  must  be  supremely  happy.  The  promises  abound,  to  the 
one  side,  of  obedience  ;  and  the  threats  abound,  to  the  other  side,  of 
disobedience.  But  if  one  turn  to  the  New  Testament,  another  style 
of  teaching  seems  to  prevail.  There  is  a  ministration  of  sorrow  ;  and 
it  is  declared  that  if  a  man  will  live  righteously,  he  shall  suffer  tribu- 
lation. "  He  shall  be  happy,"  says  the  Old  Testament ;  "  He  shall  be 
unhappy,"  says  the  New  Testament,  "All  his  ways  shall  be  ways  of 
peace,"  says  the  Old  Testament ;  "  He  shall  take  my  cross,"  says 
the  New  Testament.  "Obedience,  virtue,  prudence,  piety,  are  a 
crown  of  riches,"  says  the  Old  Testament ;  "  A  crown  of  thorns 
they  are,"  says  the  New  Testament. 

What  shall  we  do  between  tliese  two  differing  representations  ? 
This  seeming  conflict  of  statement  runs  through  the  Bible.  There  are 
in  the  New  Testament  intimations  of  the  same  doctrine  that  breaks 
out  in  such  power  in  the  Old.  There  are  echoes  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment of  those  very  promises  of  earthly  joy  in  obedience  which  so 
superabound  in  the  Old  Testament.  Religion  is  joyful ;  and  yet,  cru- 
cifixion is  its  symbol.  The  way  of  piety  is  called  peace  ;  and  yet,  Ave 
are  commanded  to  put  on  the  whole  armor,  and  be  ready,  as  warriors, 
to  fight  at  any  hour.  Are  these  the  symbols  of  peace  ?  We  are  to 
rejoice ;  and  yet  we  are  to  deny  ourselves,  and  take  up  our  cross  and 
follow  Christ.  We  are  to  inherit  the  world  ;  and  yet  Ave  are  to  for- 
sake the  world,  and  not  be  conformed  to  it.     The  Old  Testament 

Lbsson  ;  Prov.  iv.  1-18.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Noa.  513,  437,  "  Shining  Shore." 


176        PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING  IN  LIFE. 

seems  to  exclude  suffering  from  its  ideal  saint ;  and  yet  the  New  Tes- 
tament sets  forth  the  divine  man  as  "  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquaint- 
ed with  grief" 

One  class  of  minds  goes  to  these  diverse  representations,  and  by 
elective  affinity  takes  the  joyous  side,  and  simply  does  not  meddle 
with  the  other.  There  are  men  who  go  through  the  Bible  taking  out 
its  promises,  its  joyous,  hopeful,  cheering,  comforting  passages,  and 
elect  these  things  to  themselves.  They  do  not  see  that  there  is  any 
controversy  or  conflict,  simply  because  they  do  not  consider  the  other 
side  at  all.  They  let  it  alone.  As  the  disciples,  when  they  walked 
through  the  fields  eating  corn,  rubbed  the  ears  in  their  hands,  to  get 
rid  of  the  chaff;  so  there  are  a  great  many  people  who  take  the  Scrip- 
ture and  rub  it  in  their  hands,  and  ciit  out  the  part  that  they  like,  and 
throw  the  rest  away.  Therefore  there  are  many  persons  who  talk 
about  religion  as  being  a  life  of  supreme  and  continuing  joy,  and  for- 
ever appeal  to  persons  to  become  Christians  because  it  is  so  joyful. 
Well,  it  is  joyful — in  spots. 

These  persons  are  fairly  matched  by  the  ascetic  sjiirits,  who  see 
the  suffering  element  in  the  New  Testament  and  in  the  Old,  and  make 
it  the  very  prime  experience  of  life.  They  believe  in  joy ;  but  it  is 
that  which  is  to  be  found  hereafter.  The  true  ascetic  throws  forward 
his  joy,  and  he  has  it  only  by  expectation.  Here  he  has  to  wear  the 
girdle  and  the  sackcloth.  Here  he  has  to  play  the  martyr,  in  order 
that  he  may  play  the  saint  and  the  conqueror  hereafter. 

But  the  greater  number  of  men  vibrate  in  joerplexity  between  these 
two  representations.  They  have  a  notion  that  true  religion  confers 
supreme  happiness  ;  but  they  are  far  from  being. fully  happy.  They 
are  far  from  being  very  happy.  And  when  they  look  round  about 
them  in  the  church,  they  see  there  all  gradations,  from  sleepy  good 
nature  and  indolent  content,  at  the  top  of  the  scale,  along  down  to  the 
utmost  disquiet  and  aspiration  made  unhappy.  But  then,  they  ac- 
count for  it,  without  any  very  close  reasoning  or  examination,  on  the 
theory  that  pei»sons  are  not  happy  who  are  relfgious,  because  they 
have  not  enough  religion.  This,  as  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  is  A'ery 
true ;  but  really,  it  does  not  seem  to  be  an  adequate  philosophical 
statement  to  cover  the  whole  meaning  and  harmonize  these  two  ele- 
ments of  joy  and  sorrow  that  the  Bible  abounds  in.  This  class  are 
nearer  the  truth  than  either  of  the  former  extremes ;  but  they  hold  it 
in  an  empirical  form. 

Now,  can  not  we  get  a  larger  view  ?  Can  not  we  throw  light  upon 
this  problem  of  the  mingling  of  joy  and  sorrow  in  this  world  ?  I 
propose  it,  not  so  much  for  the  gratification  of  curiosity,  or  for  the 
sake  of  exercising  the  philosophical  ingenuity ;  but  because  it  has 
become  indispensable  to  discuss  such  themes.     Every  age  has  to  make 


PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE.        177 

a  new  statement  of  moral  facts  in  the  light  of  the  consciousness  of 
that  age.  The  old  statements  held  good  for  their  time.  They  satis- 
fied the  yearnings,  they  met  the  moral  necessities  of  the  aspiring  souls 
of  their  day.  But  the  world  goes  on,  and  new  statements  become  in- 
dispensable. If  any  age  gains  any  thing  it  lifts  the  next  one  up  to  a 
higher  plane ;  and  you  must  take  new  observations  from  that  higher 
plane,  and  not  change  the  truth,  but  recast  the  statements  of  it,  and 
newly  form  the  theories  which  cover  all  the  voluminous  facts  of  moral . 
consciousness  among  men.  Besides,  it  is  out  of  this  large  view  of 
the  mingling  of  joy  and  sorrow  in  life  that  we  shall  derive,  as  I  trust, 
in  the  sequel,  some  of  the  most  potent  motives  for  right  living,  and 
some  of  the  most  comforting  views  for  our  weakness,  infirmities,  and 
afflictions. 

If  the  race  of  men  were  ideally  perfect,  they  Avould  be  perfectly 
happy.  The  ultimate  divine  idea  in  man  is  that  he  should  be  a  crea- 
ture organized  to  j)roduce  happiness  in  every  one  of  his  multiform 
faculties.  Although  happiness  is  not  the  end  and  aim  of  being,  it  is 
yet  the  invariable  concomitant  of  moral  perfection.  Happiness  may 
be  said  to  be  one  of  the  signs,  therefore,  of  ripeness  in  any  faculty. 
In  other  words,  if  the  mind  of  man  is  imagined  as  standing  in  the 
complete  condition  for  which  it  was  designed,  it  wovild  be  in  har- 
mony with  universal  law,  with  universal  being,  with  its  own'  self; 
and  it  would,  under  the  divine  purpose,  ring  out  true  ,and  perfect 
happiness.     It  is  an  agent  complex,  but  made 'to  be  happy. 

Religion,  then,  regarded  as  a  theory  of  a  perfect  state,  is  right  in  pro- 
nouncing itself  a  loay  of  pleasantness^  and  2i  path  of  peace.  If  a  man 
could  but  walk  perfectly  in  the  way  of  religion,  he  would  be  perfect- 
ly happy.  The  way  Z5  pleasant,  and  all  the  paths  are  peace  ;  and  yet, 
along  that  pleasant  way  there  are  groans  and  sorrows  innumerable  ; 
and  along  that  way  of  peace  there  is  struggle,  tui-raoil,  combat,  and 
confusion.  But  the  divine  plan  and  intent,  the  ultimate  state,  is  a 
state  of  supreme  blessedness.  It  is  the  teleological  condition — if  you 
have  read  modern  books,  and  accepted  their  terminology.  The  nature 
of  man  is  one  which,  when  brought  fully  up  to  its  divine  ideal,  will 
l^roduce  constant  happiness. 

But  man  is  not  born  into  an  ideal  state — into  a  perfect  state,  even. 
On  the  contrary,  he  is  born  further  from  his  nature  than  any  other 
creature  on  earth.  Some  creatures  are  born  right  up  to  their  nature. 
They  have  their  whole  nature  at  birth.  The  fly  never  grows  a  par- 
ticle. It  never  takes  on  a  faculty,  nor  augments  a  faculty.  It  is  a 
complete  fly,  it  is  a  patriarch,  the  minute  it  is  hatched.  There  is  no 
expansion  to  it.  As  you  go  down  on  the  scale  to  the  lowest  form  of 
animated  creation,  you  shall  observe  that  there  all  tlie  faculties  a 
creature  is  to  have  he  has  in  their  full,  plenary  power  the  moment 


178         PROBLEM  OF  JOT  AND   SUFFEBINa   IN  LIFE. 

he  starts ;  but  you  will  observe,  as  you  go  up  in  the  scale,  that  there 
is  this  distinguishing  peculiarity :  that  as  animal  nature  rises  in  struc- 
ture and  in  scope  of  being,  the  space  between  the  birth-point  and  the 
full  possession  of  itself  is  augmented  and  widened.  And  how  long 
it  takes  an  animal  to  come  to  its  maturity,  measures  somewhat  the 
place  on  the  scale  of  animal  creation  where  it  stands.  The  lower 
down  you  go,  the  nearer  the  creation  is  to  perfection  when  it  starts ; 
and  the  higher  uj)  you  go,  the  further  it  is  from  perfection  when  it 
starts.  And  nothing  is  so  far  from  it  as  a  man.  There  is  nothing  so 
far  from  the  perfection  of  even  his  physical  powers  as  a  man.  Born 
as  a  babe,  what  is  a  man  that  neither  sees  nor  hears ;  that  distin- 
guishes nothing  ;  that  knows  nothing  ;  that  is  as  near  to  pulj)  as  any 
thing  can  be  ?  And  yet  that  child  is  a  son  of  God,  and  is  destined 
yet,  through  evolution  and  education,  and  sanctifying  grace  or  inspi- 
ration, to  rise  and  be  but  little  lower  than  the  angels.  But  oh  !  how 
long  the  journey  from  the  cradle  to  the  crown!  Man  is  not  born 
into  his  perfect  state.  He  is  born  just  as  far  from  it,  it  would  seem, 
as  God  could  put  him.  It  is  not  an  accident,  either,  I  take  it.  It  is 
a  characteristic  fact,  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  in  any  moral  theory  of 
facts  respecting  the  human  family  in  this  mortal  state. 

Regarding  man  historically — that  is,  through  the  whole  race,  and 
the  periods  of  it — he  was  born  at  the  jioint  at  which  the  animal 
stops,  and  ijioral  intelligence  begins.  To  be  unfolded  from  tliis  semi- 
nal point,  and  grow  up  to  the  full  sj^iritual  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus, 
is  the  real  problem  of  historic  times.  Races  of  men,  savage,  uncivi- 
lized, animal,  began  at  the  very  lowest  conceivable  j)oint.  There  is 
no  revelation  that  gives  us  any  thing  to  the  contrary.  There  is  no 
true  knowledge  that  does  not  point  in  that  direction,  namely,  that 
the  race  originated  in  conditions  just  a  little  above  the  animal,  but 
with  the  capacity  to  go  on  immeasurably  beyond  them.  On  the  whole, 
but  slowly,  with  wide  intermissions  and  many  retrocessions,  and  with 
a  vast  waste,  the  race  has  steadily  grown  away  from  its  animal  con- 
ditions, and  is  surely  reaching  upward  toward  its  ideal  spiritual 
state.  As  a  race,  it  is  going  to  give  evidence  of  a  far  higher  condi- 
tion than  might  be  suspected  from  any  thing  we  can  see  by  looking 
backward ;  and  you  should  remember,  when  you  speak  of  the  human 
race,  that  nature  does  not  lie  backward.  Nature  to  us  lies  forward, 
always.  That  is  our  nature  to  which  we  come  when  we  are  unfolded 
and  developed  by  the  editcation  of  God's  spirit — not  that  with  which 
we  started.  For  God  put  us  as  far  from  himself  as  his  arm  could 
reach,  when  he  started  us. 

Each  generation  in  this  race  is  set  back,  as  it  were,  and  has  to  do 
for  itself  what  the  whole  race  had  to  do — namely,  find  its  way  up 
from  nothing  to  something  ;  and  from  something  to  the  highest  form 


PROBLEM  OF  JOT  AND   SUFFERING   m  LIFE.        179 

of  development.  Every  child  is  born  an  animal.  It  is  that  and 
nothing  else,  literally,  at  the  beginning.  Every  child  has  to  learn 
how  to  control  itself  as  an  animal.  The  lamb  does  not.  Dro2:)ped  in 
the  morning,  by  night  it  sports  over  all  the  pasture,  nimbler,  if  pos- 
sible, than  its  own  dam.  But  the  child  that  is  born  waits  its  year 
before  it  even  knows  how  to  walk.  It  does  not  know  how  to  find 
its  foot  or  its  hand  except  through  slow  feelings  and  rude  gropings 
after  it,  through  months,  and  months,  and  months.  A  child  has  to 
learn  from  the  beginning  every  thing.  It  knows  absolutely  nothing. 
And  that  which  the  race  is  doing  on  the  gi*eat  scale,  each  individual 
of  it  is  doing  in  his  generation. 

It  becomes  easier,  every  age,  to  do  it.  That  is  to  say,  every 
single  individual  man  has  to  learn  how  to  use  his  physical  organiza- 
tion ;  how  to  use  his  intellectual  faculties ;  how  to  iise  his  social 
capacity ;  how  to  employ  his  moral  nature.  These  things  are  not 
made  known  to  him.  They  are  not  set  into  him  like  machinery,  to 
work  themselves.  They  are  things  which  belong  to  that  great  pro- 
cess of  education  which  is  going  on  in  the  whole  world,  in  regard  to 
the  whole  race,  and  in  regard  just  as  much  to  every  individual  of 
that  race.  At  first  it  was  slow  and  operose;  but  it  becomes  easier  in 
every  age,  because  each  man  now  born  has  the  accumulated  wisdom 
and  experience  of  all  that  went  before  him.  Books  are  only  another 
form  of  giving  immortality  to  the  best  part  of  men  that  lived 
liitherto.  They  are  the  resultant  of  men's  lives  in  their  highest 
forms.  All  that  past. races  knew,  thought,  felt,  found  out,  invented, 
they  passed  on  down,  so  that  when  men  are  born  now  they  do  not 
have  to  find  every  thing  out  by  such  tedious  methods  as  men  did  in 
earlier  times.  A  child  born  in  the  wilderness  is  born  into  a  condition 
where  roads  are  to  be  made,  and  bridges  are  to  be  constructed,  and 
churches  and  school-houses  and  dwellings  are  to  be  built,  and  furniture 
is  to  be  made,  and  every  thing  has  to  be  done ;  but  a  child  born  in  a 
civilized  community  finds  thousands  of  things  ready  for  his  use,  and 
is  spared  the  trouble  of  discovering  them,  so  that  he  can  go  on  to 
higher  ones.  In  earlier  periods  men  had  to  go  on,  part  by  j^art, 
finding  out  intellectual,  moral,  and  social  problems.  As  far  down  as 
the  time  of  the  patriarchs,  men  did  not  know  any  difference  between 
their  children  and  their  oxen.  Both  were  their  property.  It  used 
to  be  the  case  that  a  man  wooed  his  wife  with  his  pocket.  He 
bought  her.  If  any  thing  had  been  said  about  courting  a  wife,  men 
would  have  looked  upon  it  as  an  invasion  of  their  prerogatives.  They 
were  so  low  down  in  the  scale  of  development  that  they  did  not 
know  the  difference  between  intellectual,  and  moral,  and  physical 
qualities — between  an  organized  intellectual  and  moral  being,  and  a 
lower  organization  of  mere  material  things.      Therefore  men  bought 


180         PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 

and  sold  their  servants ;  bought  and  sold  children  ;  bought  and  sold 
wives;  bought  and  sold  every  thing.  It  was  a  low  and  undeveloped 
condition  of  things.  But  we  have  been  born  into  a  state  of  the 
world,  thank  God,  that  is  advanced  far  beyond  that — though  I  can 
remember  when  men  read  the  Bible  and  preached  those  old  doctrines ; 
as  thouo-h  six  thousand  years'  experience  had  not  taught  the  race 
any  thing,  and  the  world  had  not  learned  any  thing.  It  has,  however, 
learned  a  great  deal ;  and  now,  when  men  are  born  into  the  world, 
there  is  a  vast  accumulation  of  science  and  art.  Vast  treasures  in 
eveiy  direction  meet  us.  And  this  abbreviates  the  work  that  we  have 
to  do.  Each  individual  has  to  go  over  the  same  path  that  the  race 
has  gone  over,  but  the  race,  having  gone  on  before,  has  broken 
roads,  and  set  up  signboards,  so  that  every  individual  that  follows 
after  goes  faster  and  surer  than  those  who  preceded  him.  And  the 
w6rld  is  better  fitted  to  receive  and  educate  its  children  than  it  was 
once.  Children  are  not  born  into  such  desolate  conditions  as  they 
used  to  be — in  civilized  nations,  at  any  rate. 

Then  the  force  of  great  laws  in  hereditariness  is  increasing.  For 
God  has  brought. the  most  powerful  motive  to  bear  on  the  parental, 
heart — namely,  the  law  that  we  roll  over  on  our  children  the  qualities 
that  are  dominant  in  ourselves.  Where  a  man  lives  in  virtue,  the 
presumption  is  that  his  children  will  take  on  virtue  easier  than  if  he 
had  not.  If  you  live  for  intelligence,  the  presumption  is  that  your 
children  will  be  educated  easier  than  if  you  had  not.  And  if  a  whole 
generation  of  men  are  brought  successively  through  periods  of  educa- 
tion, their  posterity  will  begin  with  a  hereditary  educating  impulse 
which  will  avail  them  immensely.  It  is  a  law  which  was  revealed 
as  far  back  as  the  Old  Testament,  that  God  will  visit  the  sitis  of  the 
jmrents  upon  the  children  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation.  And 
this  law  is  making  it  easier  and  easier,  in  every  condition,  for  men 
to  grow  away  from  their  animal  conditions. 

But  whatever _  progress  has  been  made,  it  is  still  true,  just  as 
really  of  the  very  best  as  of  the  most  neglected,  that  men  are  born 
empty  of  holiness.  They  are  at  the  furthest  extreme  and  remove 
from  perfection.  There  is  not  one  single  man  born  virtuous  and 
good.  We  are  born  negative.  Every  single  person  born  has  the 
necessity  of  growing  up  into  Christ  in  all  things.  There  is  no  more 
universal  proposition  than  this :  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he 
can  not  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

This  is  the  truth  which  I  suppose  men  were  feeling  after,  and 
which  they  really,  to  their  own  inward  thoughts,  did  embody-in  their 
phrases,  when  they  described  men  as  being  depraved,  and  doubly  de- 
praved. They  were  feeling  after  fundamental  facts,  which  are  all- 
important  in  any  ministration.     I  should  prefer  to  dismiss  that  term 


PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFEBINa   IN  LIFE.        181 

"  depraved,"  as  not  according  to  our  later  views,  and  as  not  best  ex- 
pressing the  facts  as  they  exist.  I  reject  it  because  it  is  on  one  side 
covered  with  prejudices,  and  on  the  other  side  with  misconceptions  ; 
yet  that  which  was  meant  by  the  term  is  unquestion^ibly  a  truth  of 
fundamental  importance.  It  is  true  that  by  nature  all  men  are  with- 
out God.  All  men  are  in  "this  sense  alienate  from  God.  It  is  thus 
also,  and  in  the  same  way,  that  men  are  without  knowledge ;  alienate 
from  skill ;  ignorant  of  wealth,  of  self-government,  of  every  thing. 
They  do  not  know  how  to  think,  nor  how  to  discriminate,  nor  how  to 
love,  nor  how  to  have  moral  inspiration.  When  men  are  born,  in  the 
earlier  stages  of  their  lives  all  the  ^^reparations  are  Avith  them  for 
these  experiences  ;  but  not  only  ai'e  they  born  without  holiness,  but 
this  is  only  a  partial  statement :  they  are  born  without  knowledge, 
without  refinement,  without  skill,  without  any  thing  but  a  pack, 
j)acked  up  tight,  which  they  are  to  unpack  and  learn  how  to  use. 
For  a  man  is. a  great  bundle  of  tools.  He  is  born  into  this  life  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  how  to  use  them ;  but  he  may  learn  how  to 
use  them,  and  how  to  use  himself  according  to  the  laws  of  his  nature, 
according  to  the  world  in  which  he  lives,  and  according  to  the  society 
to  which  he  belongs. 

The  problem  of  human  life  is,  how  to  unfold  what  God  has  put 
into  you;  how  to  make  it  more  and  more;  how  to  coordinate  it,  so 
that  the  faculties  shall  rank  themselves  together,  and  march  in  organi- 
zations ;  so  that  it  may  go  away  from  the  animal  toward  the  spiritual, 
and  live  more  by  the  power  of  the  spiritual  Avorld  than  by  the  power 
of  the  senses  in  the  material  world.  Tliis  is  man's  business  here  on 
earth.  And  when  you  say  that  a  man  is  born  depraved,  if  you  mean 
that  he  has  no  holiness,  I  believe  so,  too.  He  is  without  God.  But 
then,  he  is  without  any  knowledge  of  his  own  father  and  mother.  He 
does  not  know  his  brothers  and  sisters..  He  is  ignorant  of  his  neigh- 
bors. He  has  no  consciousness  of  his  own  nation.  Spread  before  the 
child  the  country's  flag,  the  sight  of  which  thrills  us  with  such  patrio- 
tic emotions,  and  Avhat  does  he  see  in  it  but  a  plaything  ?  It  has  no 
associations  to  him.  He  has  no  knowledge  concerning  it.  Every 
thing  is  to  be  learned.  This  is  the  organic  decree.  God  did  not 
make  men  perfect.     He  made  them  pilgrims  after  perfection. 

As  I  have  said,  men  are  born  with  all  the  faculties  of  reason  ;  but 
not  with  knowledge.  That  they  are  to  find.  Men  are  born  with 
social  natures ;  but  not  with  social  loves  and  refinements  of  experi- 
ence. These  they  are  to  work  out.  Men  are  born  with  moral  sense ; 
but  notwith  knowledge  of  its  fruits,  its  inspirations,  its  various  ex- 
periences.    It  is  the  business  of  tlieir  life  to  find  out  tliese  things. 

To  teach  all  this  vast  lore  of  experience,  God  lias  establisJiocl 
what  I  may  call  five  schools.      The  first  school  into  which  a  man  is 


182         PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND    SUFFERmO   IN  LIFE. 

born  is  the  school  of  the  family,  where  parental  love  is  the  schoolmas- 
ter. But  he  is  just  as  much  born  into  a  school  of  the  material  world. 
And  it  is  a  part  of  the  teaching  of  the  family  to  induct  the  child  into 
a  knowledge  of  his  physical  organization,  and  into  a  knowledge  of 
physical  actions,  so  that  he  shall  learn  what  is  good  and  bad  ;  what  is 
sharj)  and  blunt ;  what  is  high  and  low  ;  what  is  water  and  fire.  It 
is  a  i^art  of  our  early  experience  to  learn  how  to  live  according  to  the 
law  of  the  material  globe. 

Then  comes  the  school  of  civil  society — or,  organized  social  life  on 
a  large  scale.  Men  have  to  learn  that.  And  in  learning  that,  they 
learn  what  are  civil  laws;  what  are  the  rights  of  their  fellow-men  ; 
and  what  are  the  modes  of  getting  along  with  men.  In  learning  it, 
they  are  still  further  to  develop  the  faculties,  and  still  further  to 
bring  them  into  subjection  to  the  laws  of  organization. 

Then  comes  the  school  of  business,  or  creative  industry,  which 
some  men  seem  to  think  is  a  necessary  evil,  which  a  man  has  to  run 
into  in  order  to  get  a  mouthful  of  bread,  and  then  run  out  of  in  order 
to  be  pious  !  But  the  great  kingdom  of  work  is  a  part  of  God's  church 
on  earth.  It  is  there  that  God  teaches  us  moral  ideas.  We  learn  a 
jiart  of  our  lesson  in  the  family  ;  a  part  of  it  in  the  material  world,  deal- 
ing with  matter ;  a  part  of  it  in  civil  society,  dealing  with  the  laws 
and  the  interests  of  men ;  and  a  part  of  it  from  the  creative  force  ex 
erted  upon  matter,  which  is  industry.  But  all  this  is  not  something 
exceptional,  and  a  necessary  evil  in  this  life.  It  is  a  department  of 
that  one  great  school  in  which  men  are  to  find  themselves. 

Then  comes  the  school  of  the  church,  which  is  the  last,  and  in 
which  men  leai'n  moral  and  spiritual  truths.  Some  of  these  things 
men  have  learned,  if  they  have  been  brought  up  rightly,  before  the 
church  reacihes  them;  but  here  is  the  culminating  influence  in  God's 
grace  working  through  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  sent  home 
by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  is  the  highest  department 
of  the  great  university  of  life.  Beginning  in  the  family,  and  going 
through  the  physical  world,  tlirough  the  civil  world,  and  through  the 
industrial  world,  up  into  the  moral  or  spiritual  world — this  is  the  unity 
of  that  preparation  which  God  has  made  by  which  men,  born  at  noth- 
ing, shall  learn  how  to  take  out  the  store  and  treasure  of  their  facul- 
ties, and  educate  them,  develo])  them,  coordinate  them,  control  them, 
carry  them  up  from  step  to  step,  until  tliey  are  made  perfect  men  in 
Christ  Jesus. 

These  are  simple  facts  that  I  have  been  stating — not  theories 
Men  are  born  just  as  I  have  said  they  were.  They  are  educated  just 
as  I  have  said  they  were.  I  believe  they  are  facts  that  are  not  acci- 
dental, but  that  indicate  the  divine  mind.  At  any  rate,  it  is  the  best 
light  I  can  get  at  present,  in  my  age.    Looking  at  the  difficulties  which 


PROBLEM  OF  JOT  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE.        183 

roen  liave  to  contend  with,  looking  at  tlie  evils  which  beset  them  on 
every  side,  I  see  no  other  theory  on  Avhich  you  can  explain  these  un- 
questionable tacts  in  respect  to  the  way  in  which  men  come  into  this 
world,  and  in  respect  to  the  way  in  which  the  world  takes  care  of 
them,  develops  thera,  and  prej^ares  them. 

It  is  in  the  light  of  such  a  development  that  we  see  the  relation 
between  sorrow  and  joy  in  the  Christian  scheme.  Joy  is  an  attribute 
of  man's  nature  drawn  out  and  perfected.  It  abides  with  him.  Its 
perfect  form  will  be  the  fruit  of  his  highest  state.  He  is  living  to- 
ward joy,  if  he  is  living  toward  developnient.  If  he  is  rising 
higher  and  higher,  he  is  becoming  what  God  meant  every  nature 
should  become — a  perfect  enginery  for  the  production  of  manifold 
joys  in  sublime  harmonies.  This  is  that  which  we  are  all  seeking. 
This  is  that  which  the  race  will  ultimately  reach. 

But  sorrow,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  conflict  which  every  person 
experiences  as  he  is  endeavoring  to  learn.  Sorrow  is  the  non-obser- 
vance of  laws,  whether  it  be  through  ignorance  or  momentary  willful- 
ness. Sorrow  is  the  conflict  of  men  on  the  way  to  themselves.  It  is 
the  conflict  of  men  \vith  their  lower  nature,  when  they  are  attempting 
to  take  possession  of  it  and  control  it  by  their  higher  faculties.  It  is 
the  participation  of  each  individual  with  something  of  the  sadness 
which  belongs  to  the  whole  economy  in  which  he  lives.  In  other 
words,  it  is  a  part  of  his  social  liability.  It  is  the  incident  of  growth 
from  a  lower  to  a  higher  state.  When  men  are  seeking  themselves, 
and  do  not  know  how  to  walk,  and  fall  doA\Ti,  that  is  hurt,  if  it  is 
bodily ;  and  if  it  is  moral,  it  is  suffering.  If  a  child  puts  its  hand 
in  the  fire,  it  is  ^:>awi  y  and  it  is  pain  that  will  keep  the  child  from 
ever  putting  its  hand  there  again.  He  has  learned  something.  If  a 
man,  being  selfish,  and  having  once  sufiiered  from  the  results  of  selfish- 
ness, were  as  wise  as  the  child  that  puts  its  hand  in  the  fire,  he  would 
avoid  selfishness  in  the  future ;  but  that  is  not  the  way  of  the  world. 
A  man,  walking  along  a  path  at  night,  as  long  as  it  is  smooth  feels 
that  he  is  in  the  path ;  but  by  and  by,  falling  into  some  quag,  he 
says,  "  What !  quags  in  good  roads  ?"  And  then  he  says,  "  Oh  !  no, 
I  am  not  in  the  road.  The  road  is  pleasant  and  easy ;  and  if  I  get  my 
feet  into  the  mud,  it  is  because  I  am  not  in  the  road." 

What,  then,  is  the  fact  but  this :  that  if  a  man  only  knows  the  right 
path,  he  goes  on  without  suffering,  and  that  if  he  suffers,  it  is  because 
he  is  not  in  the  right  path  ?  Suffering  is  God's  regent  of  the  universe, 
Baying,  "  The  way  is  a  way  of  pleasantness,  and  all  its  j^ath  are  peace ; 
and  therefore  when  you  suffer  it  i«i  because  you  are  out  of  the  way." 
So  there  is  something  to  be  learned  in  this  direction.  ^Vhen  the  boys 
whisper  and  laugh,  instead  of  studying  their  lessons,  there  comes  a 
gentle  rap,  not  hurting  them  much,  which  says,  "  The  teacher  is  behind 


184         PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 

you,  and  you  are  not  doing  your  duty;"  and  they  gather  up.  The 
so  there  are  inconveniences  in  life  rapping  us  men,  and  saying,"  You 
are  not  doing  your  duty."  But  when  boys  are  ugly  and  malicious 
and  quarrelsome,  and  they  are  hitting  each  other,  and  pinching  each 
other,  and  pinning  each  other,  the  schoolmaster  comes  behind 
them  with  a  most  vehement  souvenir',  that  teaches  them  more — name- 
ly, that  they  are  wicked,  and  are  doing  wrong,  first,  in  neglecting 
their  lessons ;  and,  secondly,  in  inflicting  pain  unnecessarily  upon  each 
other.  And  in  life  the  things  that  men  suffer  are  testimonies  of  the 
ever-watchful  Master  that  is  behind  you,  and  saying,  "  You  are  neg- 
lecting your  duty,  and  you  are  doing  wi'ong."  The  way  in  which 
you  should  walk  is  a  pleasant  way,  and  suffering,  in  this  world,  is  noth- 
ing but  that  necessary  chastisement  and  pain  which  God  has  infixed 
throughout  the  whole  divine  scheme,  in  order  to  keep  men  from  wrong 
paths,  and  keep  them  going  toward  that  higher  state  where  tljey  are 
to  emerge  into  immortality  and  glory. 

Therefore  it  is  that  the  two  ideas  are  perfectly  harmonious  and 
consistent.  You  might  call  suffering  the  labor-pain  of  virtue,  being 
born  into  a  higher  state  out  of  a  lower.  It  is  not  a  thing  desirable  in 
itself ;  but  instrumentally  it  is  desirable,  as  a  motive,  as  a  spur,  as  an 
incitement,  as  an  inducement,  in  men,  to  rise  to  a  higher  state. 

If  this  be  so,  I  remark, 

1.  The  search  for  the  origin  of  evil,  about  which  so  much  has 
been  thought  and  said,  is  a  mistaken  search,  in  the  direction  in  which 
men  are  looking  for  it.  When  men  have  squared  the  circle,  and  found 
the  philosopher's  stone,  and  discovered  perpetual  motion,  then  they 
will  find  this  too.  But  they  will  not  find  any  of  them.  They  are,  all 
four  of  them,  mistakes.  The  reason  why  God  made  seeds  instead  of 
perfected  fruit  is  the  only  question.  Why  did  God  make  men  at  the 
bottom,  and  then  say  to  them,  "  Climb  clear  up  to  the  top  ?"  Evil 
is  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  part  of  the  divine  system  by  which  we 
ai'e  to  be  unfolded.  And  if  men  were  made  to  find  their  way  up 
from  nothing  to  something,  through  various  gradations,  and  pain 
and  suffering  are  but  incitements  and  pressures  to  help  them  on,  the 
question  is  not,  "  What  is  the  origin  of  evil  ?"  for  the  origin  of  evil  is 
but  another  name  for  the  origin  of  suffering.  And  suffering  is  not  evil. 
You  might  as  well  ask  what  is  the  origin  of  a  man's  suffering  when 
he  is  learning  to  drive  nails,  and  he  hits  his  thumb  instead  of  the  nail, 
as  to  ask  what  is  the  origin  of  evil.  He  does  not  know  how  to 
strike  straight :  that  is  the  origin  of  it.  What  men  call  "  evil "  origin- 
ates from  their  not  knowing  how  to  carry  their  faculties.  They  were  bora 
without  knowing  it. 

Here  is  a  man  with  forty  plenary  powers  in  him,  every  one  of 
which  is  a  prince,  every  one  of  which  is  seeking  development,  and 


PROBLEM  OF  JOT  AND   SUFFERlNa   m  LIFE.        185 

every  one  of  which  is  left  to  find  out,  by  ex^^eriment,  its  own  nature, 
and  capacity,  and  design.  He  was  born  without  knowledge,  for  the 
most  part,  of  himself.  And  do  you  ask  what  was  the  origin  of  his 
mistakes  ?  Simply  the  fact  that  he  did  not  know,  and  was  born  not 
to  know.  What  is  the  reason  that  a  man  who  is  lost  in  tlie  Avoods 
travels,  in  finding  his  way  out,  ten  miles,  when  he  might  get  out  by 
traveling  one  mile  ?  Because  he  does  not  know  the  road,  and  he  keeps 
wandering  about  here  and  there  to  find  it.  And  so  men  are  wander- 
ing about  in  life  to  find  themselves.  And  what  are  called  sins  are  to 
be  limited  to  those  wrong  things  which  men  do  on  purpose.  The 
rest  are  infirmities  which  God  looks  comj^assionately  upon,  and  sor- 
sows  over.  He  j^unishes  sins  which  are  in  the  natui-e  of  purposed 
wrong-doing,  and  pities  the  infirmities  which  men  fall  into,  not  know- 
ing how  to  do  any  better,  or  only  partially  knowing  how  to  do  better. 

Let  us  not,  therefore,  look  about  and  say,  "  How  does  evil  get  into 
the  world  ?"  for  that  question  will  only  be  answered  when  you  can 
tell  why  God  preferred  to  make  men  as  he  did  make  them,  the  sum 
of  nothing,  with  the  capacity  to  develop  into  infinite  power  in  infinite 
directions.     It  pleased  him  to  do  it. 

2.  We  see,  from  the  statements  that  have  been  made,  if  they  be 
accepted,  what  is  the  ti-ue  and  proper  meaning  o^ self-denial.  One  of 
the  eai'liest  lessons  that  a  man  learns  is  to  be  an  animal.  He  learns 
the  animal  functions  first.  He  learns  the  faintest  animal  relations  of 
truth.  Matter  is  the  thing  that  first  addresses  itself  to  him.  A  child 
learns  the  physical  globe  before  it  even  learns  its  mothei*.  The  mother 
is  learned  through  the  child's  material  wants.  The  first  education  of 
every  human  being  in  this  world,  is  to  teach  him  to  be  a  little  animal. 
But  very  soon  there  begin  to  be  conflicting  claims  in  the  child.  And 
now  comes  the  question  of  priority.  And  every  once  in  a  wliile  there 
will  come  a  time  when  there  will  arise  a  little  conflict  in  the  child's 
mind  as  to  which  shall  rule,  those  faculties  that  represent  tlie  affec- 
tions, or  those  that  represent  the  appetites,  and  when  one  or  the  other 
must  prevail.  And  if  the  child  triumphs,  and  the  affections  prevail, 
that  is  self-denial.  It  is  affection  saying  to  passion,  "  You  are  lower 
than  I,  and  you  must  step  down  there  and  wait  for  me."  That 
is  self-denial.  It  is  a  higher  faculty  making  a  lower  one  keep  down, 
and  know  its  place. 

Then,  the  moment  the  affections  begin  to  get  strong,  there  are 
moral  sentiments  which  rise  up  and  assert  their  authority  over 
the  affections.  Questions  present  themselves  where  persons  are 
called  to  decide  wMiether  they  will  follow  their  affections  or  their 
duty.  Duty  rises  in  every  soul,  and  says,  "I  am  higlier  than  affec- 
tion." And  if  there  is  a  question  a^  to  which  shall  govern,  duty 
must  govern,  and  not  affection.     And  affection  experiences  suffering. 


1S6         PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   STJFFEBING   IN  LIFE. 

And  this  is  self-denial.  It  is  self-denial  of  a  lower  feeling  for  the  sake 
of  giving  liberty  and  power  and  influence  to  a  higher  one. 

Every  time  a  true  act  of  self-denial  takes  place,  two  things  happen: 
first,  a  lower  feeling  suflers,  because  it  can  not  have  its  own  way : 
and,  secondly,  a  higher  feeling  rejoices,  because  it  has  its  own  way. 
There  are  two  feelings  that  enter  into  evei'y  act  of  self-denial :  one  of 
sorrow,  because  a  lower  faculty  is  brought  into  subjection;  and  the 
other  of  joy,  because  a  higher  faculty  is  brought  into  the  ascendency. 

Now  see  how  this  clears  away  all  the  absurd  notions  that  have 
prevailed  in  this  world  about  the  mission  of  pain  and  sufiering.  Many 
persons  say,  "  I  ought  to  deny  myself."  They  are  going  along  in  life 
very  hapj)ily,  and  do  not  perceive  any  particular  reason  for  changing 
their  course,  but  they  have  read  that  a  man  must  deny  himself,  and 
they  say  to  themselves,  "  What  shall  I  deny  myself  in?  I  wish  I  knew 
how  I  could  deny  myself."  And  they  go  to  work  and  invent  modes  of 
self-deijial.  One  person  says,  "  I  will  not  eat  any  butter."  So  he  denies 
himself  Another  person  says,  "  I  enjoy  a  good  coat  as  well  as  any 
body  else  ;  but,  being  a  Christian,  my  duty  is  to  deny  myself;  so  I  will 
get  linsey-woolsey  and  let  the  broadcloth  go."  That  is  his  self-denial. 
Men  have  no  idea  of  what  self-denial  is.  They  are  floundering  after 
something,  they  do  not  know  what.  They  are  searching  for  an  oppor- 
tunity for  self-denial,  not  understanding  that  to  deny  one's  self  is  sim- 
ply to  put  down  a  lower  feeling,  in  order  to  give  a  higher  feeling  as- 
cendency. You  have  an  opportunity  for  self-denial  every  time  you 
see  a  man.  I^you  meet  a  man  that  you  dislike,  put  down  that  hate- 
ful enmity  of  soul.  That  will  be  self-denial.  Every  time  you  see  a 
person  in  misery,  and  you  shrink  from  relieving  him,  then  relieve  him. 
That  will  be  self-denial.  Do  not  say,  "  I  am  so  busy  I  can  not  stop 
to  see  that  little  curmudgeon  in  the  street ;"  but  stop.  God  says,  "  You 
are  all  brethren,"  and,  ragged  and  dirty  as  as  that  child  is,  it  is  related 
to  you  in  the  larger  relationship  of  the  eternal  world  ;  and  you  must  not 
be  so  busy  as  no'tto  have  time  to  care  for  him.  If  your  selfishness  says, 
"  I  can  not  stop ;  I  do  not  want  to  be  plagued  with  these  little  ruflians 
of  the  street,"  and  a  diviner  element  in  the  soul  says,  "  Stop  !  neither 
business  nor  pleasure  has  any  right  here :  religion  and  humanity  and 
duty  must  rule  here ;"  and  if  you  obey  the  dictates  of  that  divine  ele- 
ment, then  you  deny  yourself  You  put  down  mean  indifferences  and 
pestiferous  selfishness  for  the  sake  of  giving  a  royal  tone  of  joy  to  your 
upper  nature,  do  you  not  ? 

"  In  honor  preferring  one  another."  This  injunction  suggests 
an  ample  field  for  self  denial.  You  that  invent  sack-cloth  and  hair- 
mittens  to  rub  yourselves  with,  so  as  to  get  up  self-denial  and 
suffering,  when  you  sit  and  hear  your  brother  in  the  law,  of  the 
office  next  to  yours,  praised,  what  is   it  that  makes  you  hold  your 


PROBLEM  OF  JOT  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE.        187 

breath?  "Oh!"  you  say,  "that  is  envy.  I  ought  not  to  feel 
BO."  There  is  a  blessed  struggle.  What  is  born  out  of  it  ?  If  you 
rise  superior  to  that  comparison  between  yourself  and  him,  and  say, 
"  I  thank  God  that  he  is  esteemed  more  than  I  am;  I  love  and  honor 
him,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  his  name  go  up,  and  it  does  not  hurt  me  to 
have  his  name  go  above  mine,"  then  there  is  a  glorious  self-denial. 
What  are  the  elements  of  it  ?  Why,  putting  down  your  own  selfish- 
ness, and  putting  up  the  brotherhood  feeling. 

Xo  man,  then,  need  hunt  among  hair-shirts ;  no  man  need  seek 
for  blankets  too  short  at  the  bottom  and  too  short  at  the  top  ;  no  man 
need  resort  to  iron  seats  or  cushionless  chairs ;  no  man  need  shut 
himself  up  in  grim  cells  ;  no  man  need  stand  on  the  tops  of  towers 
or  columns,  in  order  to  deny  himself.  There  are  abundant  opportuni- 
ties for  self-denial.  If  a  man  is  going  to  place  the  higher  part  of  his 
nature  upjDcrmost,  he  will  have  business  enough  on  hand.  He  will 
not  need  to  go  into  the  wildez*ness  to-deny  himself.  And,  by  the  way, 
to  go  alone  into  the  wilderness  is  no  safeguard  against  evil.  A  man 
never  went  into  the  wilderness  in  this  world  that  the  devil  did  not 
go  with  him.  In  the  city,  the  devil  has  so  much  to  do  that  he  can 
not  pay  much  attention  to  any  one  man  ;  but  in  the  wilderness  he  has 
you !  It  is  a  bad  plan  to  keep  by  yourself  too  much.  When  you 
are  under  wholesome  excitements  in  life,  when  you  are  made  to 
vibrate  and  respond  to  genial  influences,  these  things  help  you  on 
toward  self-denial. 

It  is  not  meant  that  a  man  should  suffer  because  there  is  any  good 
in  suffering,  in  and  of  itself.  Suffering  is  merely  incidental.  The 
good  lies  in  the  struggle  in  you  between  a  higher  and  a  lower  feeling  ; 
and  self-denial  is  the  triumph  of  the  higher  feeling  over  the  lower. 
Therefore,  every  man  that  suffers  when  he  denies  himself  shows  that 
the  upper  feeling  is  yet  faint. 

A  man  takes  a  musical  instrument  and  undertakes  to  bring  up 
one  part  of  it,  so  that  it  shall  sound  louder  than  any  other  part.  The 
moment  he  brings  it  up  so  that  it  sounds  a  little  louder  than  the 
others,  people  say,  "  Yes,  I  think  I  do  hear  that  upper  note ;"  but  it 
is  so  faint  that  a  person  has  to  put  his  hand  to  his  ear  to  hear  it.  But 
by  and  by  the  man  works  the  instrument  so  that  out  rolls  this  upper 
note  so  clearly  that,  although  the  under  notes  are  there,  every  body 
says,  "  Ah  !  now  it-  has  come  out ;  now  I  hear  it ;  it  is  all  right 
now."  And  a  man  that  denies  himself  in  the  truest  Christian  way, 
does  it  so  that  the  joy  of  the  upper  feelings  rolls  clear  over  the  pain 
and  suffering  of  the  lower  feelings.  Where  this  does  not  take  place, 
the  self-denial  is  very  imperfect. 

3.  In  the  line  of  this  discussion  we  see,  too,  the  foreshadowings  of 
the  cross  in  human  life.     In  the  whole  line  of  development  we  see,  in 


188  PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 

this  world,  the  great  principle  of  love,  which  is  divine,  because  it  did 
not  spring  from  any  thing  that  we  can  see,  but  from  the  original  crea- 
tive decree.  The  principle  of  love  and  the  natui-e  of  love  were  cer- 
tainly as  directly  from  God,  when  it  was  infixed  in  the  human  com- 
position, as  any  thing  that  we  can  imagine.  If  you  will  watch  the 
development  of  love  as  it  takes  place  between  the  parent  and  the  child, 
even  in  the  savage  state,  you  will  see  that  there  is  infixed  in  the  nature 
of  human  love  a  tendency  to  bear,  not  for  one's  self,  but  for  others ;  to 
bear  their  troubles  and  cares. 

The  first  experience  we  have  of  self-abnegation,  joyful  and  beauti- 
ful, is  where  the  mother  bears  for  her  child.  It  is  not  merely  the 
love  of  recipiency.  The  love  that  men  mostly  know  in  their  adult 
life  is  the  susceptibility  of  being  played  upon  by  others  ;  of  being  made 
happy  by  the  intercourse  of  other  natures.  That  is  a  poor  love. 
The  nature  of  the  truer  love  is  to  exercise  the  parental  instinct.  We 
see  substittition  in  it.  If  the  child  does  wrong,  the  parent  takes  the 
smart,  and  lets  the  child  learn  a  lesson — that  is,  to  some  extent,  for 
this  can  not  go  to  all  lengths.  Love  attempts  to  substitute  the  ex- 
perience of  older  hands  and  bodies  and  minds  for  the  inexperience 
of  younger  ones,  so  that  the  child  shall  not  suffer  so  much  as  it 
would  if  it  had  none  to  take  care  of  it.  N^ay,  we  see  im2Jutation  in 
parental  love ;  so  that  the  parent  is  all  the  time  accounting  with  the 
child  as  if  it  had  virtues  that  it  has  not.  The  parent,  for  instance, 
persuades  the  child  to  do  things  which  the  child  would  not  do  t)f  its 
own  accord,  and  gives  it  large  credit  and  large  praise  for  that  which 
the  parent  incited  and  fixed  in  the  child. 

4.  We  see  love  sufiering  in  life.  Although  the  various  develop- 
ments of  love  are  imperfect,  yet  we  see  the  sphere  of  these  qualities 
widening  and  widening,  until  we  see  love  in  all  the  organisms  of  soci- 
ety, as  existing  in  the  intimate  relationships  of  friend  and  friend,  of 
pai-ent  and  child,  and  of  brothers  and  sisters.  We  see  in  love  the 
overshadowings  of  that  sublime  disclosure  which  was  made  on  the 
cross,  of  divine  love.  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  Son  to 
die  for  it.  And  what  is  revealed  by  that  fact?  That  God  had 
learned  to  do  it  ?  No  ;  but  that  the  faint  snatches  which  we  see  of 
such  a  nature  of  love  as  is  manifested  in  the  family,  are  parts  of  the 
revelation  of  divine  truth  in  nature,  which  was  more  gloriously  revealed 
in  the  pei'son  of  Jesus  Christ.  Parental  love  is  John  Baptist  to  the  aton- 
ing love  of  Christ  Jesus.  And  though  it  is  very  imperfect,  a  mei-e 
scratch,  simply  an  outline,  shorthand,  as  it  were,  yet  it  is  sufficient  to 
prepare  us  to  understand,  and  assist  us  in  understanding,  when  the 
disclosure  is  made  of  it,  that  greater  love  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  gave 
himself,  not  only  that  he  might  redeem  the  world,  but  that  he  might 
redeem  every  individual  in  the  world,  making  all  men  at  last  pure 


PBOBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE.        189 

and  spotless,  when  he  shall  present  them  before  the  throne  of  his 
Father  in  eternal  glory. 

This  power,  therefore,  of  perfectness  to  take  on  suffering,  for  the 
sake  of  shielding  from  suffering  those  that  are  in  a  lower  sphere,  is 
the  secret  of  the  Cross.  The  hidden  mystery  of  Christ's  sacrifice 
and  death  is  not  alone  taught  us  in  the  New  Testament.  The  ex- 
pectation for  it  is  created  when  we  look  out  into  nature  and  society. 
And  when,  afterward,  we  go  back  to  the  word  of  God,  it  is  suscepti- 
ble of  no  other  interpretation  but  this — that  God  does  bear  the  sins  of 
men,  and  carry  their  sorrows ;  and  that  when  he  puts  men  into  a 
world  where  there  are  pain,  ■and  sorrow,  and  shortcomings,  and  in- 
firmities, and  sufferings,  he  does  not  leave  them  alone.  He  himself 
dwells  in  the  household.  And  as  a  parent  that  is  bringing  up  a  child 
inflicts  suffering  and  permits  suffei-ing  to  be  inflicted  upon  the  child, 
for  his  good,  watching  his  progress  and  studying  to  meet  his  wants 
all  the  way  up  through  his  education ;  so  God  is  the  educator  of  time 
and  the  world,  and  by  suffering  he  develops  men  to  that  perfectness 
which  at  last  shall  be  without  suffering  in  the  eternal  sphere. 

5.  In  the  light  of  these  disquisitions,  they  that  are  in  trouble  or 
in  sorrow  must  learn  the  true  way  out  of  it.  There  is  but  one  way 
out  of  suffering,  and  that  way  is  upward.  All  other  ways  are  ad- 
journing it,  or  preparing  for  its  recurrence  in  even  greater  measure. 
When  men  suffer  in  any  of  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  and  go  down  to- 
ward their  passions  as  a  remge,  or  go  out  laterally,  as  it  were,  to  hide 
themselves  in  amusements,  their  sufferings  are  like  the  blossoms  of  an 
apple-^i*ee  that  fall  without  fruit,  multitudes  of  them.  No  lesson  is 
learned,  no  victory  is  gained,  no  strengtli  is  attained.  But  when  a 
man  suffers,  and  accepts  the  suffering,  and  says,  "  It  is  a  messenger 
of  God  sent  to  teach  me  to  rise  higher  in  that  part  of  my  being  in 
which  I  am  living ;  to  strengthen  that  which  is  good  over  against 
that  which  is  bad  :  I  must  think  higher ;  I  must  live  better ;  I  must 
be  nobler ;  I  must  commune  more  with  God ;  I  must  come  neai'er  to 
the  invisible  and  eternal  world :  the  further  I  go  down  toward  the 
animal,  the  moi'e  I  must  suffer ;  and  the  higher  I  rise  toward  the  spi- 
ritual, the  less  shall  I  suffer" — when  a  man  does  this,  he  has  learned 
the  lesson  that  every  one  should  learn.  If  God  has  sent  afflictions 
upon  you,  whether  they  come  from  yourself  or  from  your  social  lia- 
bilities— from  your  connection  one  with  another — the  golden  gate 
that  leads  into  the  way  which  is  pleasant,  and  into  the  paths  which 
are  peace,  is  an  upward  gate.  And  the  nearer  a  man  can  get  to  God, 
the  less  any  thing  on  earth  can  afllict  him.  That  is  one  reason  why 
prayer,  even  when  men  in  their  own  consciousness  are  not  Christians, 
is  so  soothing  and  quieting.  In  the  act  of  lifting  the  soul  up  above 
its  passions  into  the  conscious  presence  of  the  Eternal,  though  it  be 


190         PBOBLEM  OF  JOT  AND    SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 

blind,  though  it  be  the  pleading  of  a  child  with  an  unknown  Father, 
there  is  something  that  lifts  a  man  in  the  right  direction.  But  how 
much  more  when  God  is  dearer  to  the  soul  than  all  the  contents  of 
earth  ;  when  the  soul  can  say,  "  There  is  none  on  earth  like  thee,  and 
there  is  none  upon  the  earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee !"  Communion 
with  God  is  prayer — oh !  what  a  refuge  out  of  trouble..  Oh !  what  a 
pavilion  in  which  God  does  hide  men,  according  to  his  promise,  until 
the  storm  be  overpast.  Out  of  sorrow  by  going  down  ?  Ah  !  that 
is  bad  comfort.  Out  of  sorrow  by  resorting  to  stoical  philosophy  ? 
It  only  hardens  and  toughens  the  fibre  of  feeling.  Out  of  the  mere 
erosion  of  suffering  ?  That  is  not  a  manly  comfort.  Oh  !  lift  up  your 
head.  Find  peace  and  comfort  by  giving  flight  to  the  higher  ele- 
ments of  your  highest  nature  :  love,  and  faith,  and  hope,  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost.  There  is  the  divine  prescription.  And  there  never 
was  a  trouble  so  grievous  that  there  was  not,  in  this  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  assuagement  and  peace.  There  never  was  a  heart  so  smitten 
that  there  was  not  restoration  in  true  Christian  faith. 

When  the  rude  ox  or  the  fierce  wind  has  broken  off  the  shrub, 
and  laid  it  down  on  the  ground  lacerated  and  torn,  it  lies  there  but  a 
few  hours  before  the  force  of  nature  in  the  stem  and  in  the  root  begins 
to  work ;  and  soon  new  buds  shoot  out ;  and  before  the  summer  shall 
have  gone  round,  the  restorative  effort  of  nature  will  bring  oiit  on 
that  shrub  other  branches.  And  shall  the  heart  of  a  man  be  crushed, 
and  God  send  sweet  influences  of  comfort  from  above  to  inspirit  it, 
and  that  heart  not  be  able  to  rise  above  its  desolateness  ? 

What  sorrow  is  there  that  has  God's  liberty  to  ride  you  al  a  des- 
pot? What  bereavements  did  God  ever  give  liberty  to  be  your 
tyi-ant  ?  What  laws  did  God  ever  give  leave  to  come  to  you  and  say, 
"  I  own  you  "  ?  You  are  God's,  and  no  one  else's.  And  there  is  no 
suffering,  no  sorrow,  no  human  experience,  that  you  have  not  the 
power  to  rise  above,  to  subdue — nay,  to  harness  to  you,  and  make  carry 
you.  For  sufferings  rightly  understood  are,  as  it  were,  God's  coursers 
harnessed  to  your  chariot  to  bear  you  up.  Horses  and  a  chariot  of 
fire  did  the  prophet  have  to  take  him  to  heaven ;  but  he  is  not  the 
only  one  that  went  to  heaven  in  a  chariot  of  fire.  Thousands  are  ri- 
ding in  chariots  of  fire.  Sorrow  is  the  fire ;  and  troubles  are  those  cour- 
sers by  which  myriads  of  men  ai'e  being  drawn,  in  that  flaming  cha- 
riot, heavenward. 

Do  not  understand,  then,  that  suffering  or  sorrow  are  incidental  or 
accidental.  They  are  all  of  them  divine.  Rightly  understood  and 
rightly  used,  sorrow  is  to  the  man  what  the  whetstone  is  to  the  razor. 
You  are  made  sharper  by  it.  Without  it  you  very  soon  lose  yout 
edge,  and  cut  dull.  With  sorrow  men  never  forget.  Sorrow  is  the 
trumpet  that  sounds  through  the  camp  when  the  enemy  is  near,  that 


PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE.        191 

you  may  be  aroused  and  ready  to  meet  your  adversary.  Sorrow  is 
that  friendly  blow  by  which  you,  sleeping  in  the  midst  of  suifocating 
fumes,  are  aroused.  For  God  does  not  mean  that  you  shall  perish. 
He  loves  you  too  well.  Ah !  is  there  not  comfort  in  the  declaration, 
"  Whom  I  love  I  chasten,  and  scourge  every  son  whom  I  receive  "  ? 
"  You  had  children,"  says  God,  "  and  you  chastised  them  for  your  own 
pleasure ;  but  I,  that  they  may  be  partakers  of  my  holiness."  There 
is  the  Gospel;  the  whole  of  it. 

Blessed  are  they  that  have  sorrow.  Sad  are  they  that  are  without 
it.  He  must  be  a  very  good  man  that  has  lived  in  this  world  and  has 
not  had  any  trouble.  Steamships  do  not  care  whether  the  wind  blows 
or  not,  because  they  have  internal  motive  forces;  but  we  are  not 
steamships,  and  we  need  troubles  as  winds  to  bear  us  on.  We  make 
no  voyages  without  troubles,  unless  we  are  very  good  indeed. 

Blessed  be  God,  then,  that  gives  us  sorrow  upon  sorrow,  troitble 
upon  trouble,  stroke  ujjou  stroke.  These  things  are  so  many  knock- 
ings  at  the  gate  of  heaven,  saying,  "  Oj^en,  Lord."  Let  heaven's  gate 
fly  open  when  they  fall  on  you.  See  to  it  that  they  take  you  to  God. 
See  to  it  that  they  take  you  to  higher  manliness  and  to  God.  Never 
in  sorrow  be  sorry  for  any  thing  which  you  have  done  that  was  right, 
and  pure,  and  true.  Never  in  sorrow  say,  "  Oh  !  that  I  had  the  leeks 
and  onions  of  Egypt,  and  were  not  obliged  to  eat  this  food  of  the 
desert  which  I  so  much  loathe."  When  God  is  taking  you  through 
the  wilderness  toward  the  promised  land,  never  look  back,  nor  shrink. 
Bear  your  trouble,  and  say,  "  Strike,  God,  and  strike  again,  and  as 
often  as  needful ;  do  any  thing  to  me  and  take  any  thing  from  me ; 
but  let  me  have  thee,  and  life,  and  life  eternal." 


192         PROBLEM  OB   JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 


PRATER  BEFOUE  THE  SERMON. 

We  rejoice,  O  thou  crowned  God !  that  around  about  thee  are  so  many  that  lift 
up  holy  hands,  and  utter  ceaselessly  the  joy  of  their  hearts.  For  love  and 
ecstasy  are  praise ;  and  they  that  are  in  joyful  love,  and  behold  thee,  are  remem- 
bered by  thy  love  and  mercy — how  can  they  speak  forth  their  joy  and  ecstasy? 
We  rejoice  that  their  number  is  increasing.  Thither,  as  streams  of  the  ocean, 
flow  the  tides  of  men.  There  are  gathered  together  numberless  creatures  from 
amidst  our  own  race,  and  multitudes  of  men  sanctified  by  thy  Spirit  and  made 
perfect.  Here  they  knew  privation.  Here,  with  limitation,  and  inexperience, 
and  under  pressure  of  temptation,  how  poorly  they  walked  ;  how  they  stumbled 
and  fell !  How,  but  for  thy  guiding  providence,  and  the  strength  of  thy  right 
hand,  would  every  one  of  them  have  perished !  But  guided  by  thy  grace,  they 
found  at  last,  and  inherited,  the  blessedness  of  heaven.  No  more  tears  are  theirs ; 
no  more  sorrow.  That  part  of  their  being  is  closed  and  ended.  They  are  as  the 
angels  of  heaven.  We  rejoice  that  the  companionship  is  so  large.  We  rejoice 
that  through  every  age  thou  hast  garnered  so  many.  We  rejoice  that  the  same 
faith  and  the  same  hopes  are  ours  which  have  sustained  so  many  men  upon  earth, 
pressed  vehemently,  and  tried  exceedingly.  No  tears  which  we  shed  are  shed  in 
vain.  No  sorrows  which  we  feel  come  aimlessly.  And  though  we  can  not  lift  up 
an  interpreting  eye  upon  the  grandeur  of  thy  royal  ways,  though  our  thoughts 
can  not  seek  to  plumb  all  the  depths  of  thy  wisdom,  it  is  comforting  to  believe 
that  wisdom  and  goodness  preside  over  all  our  ways,  and  that  our  very  sorrows 
and  sufferings  have  their  divine  mission.  And  though  for  the  present  they  are 
not  joyous,  but  grievous,  afterward  they  do  work  out  in  us  the  peaceable  fruit  of 
righteousness.  We  believe  that  thou  art  more  intent  upon  our  manhood  than 
upon  our  momentary  happiness.  We  believe  that  thou  art  doing  by  us,  though 
we  seem  fatherless  in  this  unsheltered  world,  that  which  we  are  faintly  striving 
to  do  by  our  children.  And  though  we  are  glad  of  the  joy  of  to-day,  we  are 
evermore  tliinking  in  their  childhood  of  what  they  shall  become  in  later  years, 
and  are  still  giving  or  withholding  that  we  may  make  them  strong  in  virtue  ; 
wise  in  intelligence  ;  men  indeed. 

So  thou  art,  we  delight  to  think,  guiding  us  through  all  the  spheres  of  this 
earthly  experience,  not  so  much  to  create  joy  to-day,  as  to  create  the  possibility 
of  immortality  in  us,  and  prepare  us  for  a  truer  manhood — for  a  nobler  life. 

Send,  then,  what  thou  wilt,  though  we  may  weep  ;  spare  not  thy  hand,  that 
is  fashioning  us,  for  our  tears.  Though  we  may  beseech  of  thee,  listen  not  to  our 
prayers  that  we  offer  for  things  not  for  our  own  higher  good.  Not  taking  our 
judgment  of  our  own  wants,  but  taking  thine  own  wisdom  of  what  is  best  for 
us,  thy  will  be  done  in  ourselves.  And  though  it  hurts ;  though  our  hearts  ache  ; 
though  the  day  be  dark  ;  though  life  itself  seems  disfigured,  and  all  its  outward 


PROBLEM  OF  JOY  AND    SUFFERING  IN  LIFE.        193 

ways  are  cut  sliort,  or  circumscribed,  oli !  if  thou  wilt  still,  by  tbe  ministration 
of  trouble,  work  in  us  a  better  manhood — a  perfect  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus,  how 
blessed  are  all  these  ministrations  of  thine ;  these  schoolmasters  of  thine ;  these 
sharp  afflictions  ;  these  chastising  rods !  And  we  bow  ourselves  before  thee,  re- 
joicing that  thou  hast  been  pleased  to  call  us  children  ;  rejoicing  that  we  are  per- 
mitted to  call  thee  Father ;  rejoicing  that  human  life  and  all  its  events  are  but 
parts  of  thy  divine  discipline  for  our  good ;  rejoicing  to  believe  that  when  thou 
hidest  thyself  thou  art  close  by,  that  when  thou  smitest  it  Is  in  love,  and  that 
thou  art  saying,  "  Whom  I  love  I  chasten." 

Oh !  teach  us  this  golden  wisdom  of  suffering  ;  and  make  us  purer,  further- 
sighted,  in  things  spiritual.  Grant  that  we  may  come  into  sympathy  with  each 
other  through  the  bonds  of  a  common  suffering ;  that  we  may  learn  in  our  own 
helplessness  to  help  those  that  need  succor,  and  that  out  of  all  our  troubles  we 
may  be  made  larger  and  clearer  and  holier,  and  become  fit  disciples  of  Him  who 
waits  for  us  in  heaven. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  !  thou  that  hast  redeemed  us,  thou  in  whom  is  all 
our  hope  and  trust,  that  thou  wilt  work  in  us,  to-day,  gratitude  and  thanksgiving 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  all  thy  precious  words,  which  we  remember,  we 
give  thee  thanks.  For  the  comfort  which  we  have  had  of  prayer,  we  give  thee 
thanks.  For  the  communion  of  the  Spirit,  we  render  thee  thanks.  For  all  those 
promises  which  lie  before  us  as  bridges  across  dark  streams  and  ravines,  a  place 
for  our  feet  to  go  over  safely,  we  thank  thee.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may 
walk  now  by  faith  of  Him  who,  though  not  seen,  is  yet  near  to  every  one  of  us  ; 
in  whose  hands  is  all  power ;  who  reigns  to  intercede,  and  to  fashion  all  things 
for  the  good  of  those  whom  he  brings  home  to  Zion. 

Sanctify  the  dispensations  of  thy  providence  to  every  family  in  this  congrega- 
tion. Bless  the  parents.  Bless  the  dear  children.  Bless  the  Sabbath  day.  In 
every  household,  to-day,  make  it  radiant  and  joyful.  May  the  sanctuary  seem 
desirable,  and  may  all  the  young  love  the  ways  of  wisdom  and  the  ways  of  instruc- 
tion. And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  us  so  to  live  that  men,  looking 
upon  us,  shall  be  drawn  toward  things  that  are  true,  and  pure,  and  high,  and 
noble. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  thy  cause  in  all  the  churches,  and 
hasten  the  time,  in  thy  good  providence,  when  men  shall  not  vex  each  other, 
bound  together  by  common  views  and  by  a  common  faith,  in  a  common  God  and 
Saviour.  May  we  consult  more  and  luore  the  things  in  .which  we  agree,  and  cast 
one  side  more  and  more  the  things  in  which  we  disagree.  And  we  pray  that  thou 
wilt  thus  give  unity  of  heart  to  all  that  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity 
and  in  truth. 

Revive  thy  work  everywhere.  For  thy  great  grace  here  we  thank  thee.  For 
the  ingathering  wliich  we  see  from  month  to  month ;  for  new  uope  ;  for  new 
Bongs  ;  for  men  converted  from  the  error  of  their  ways,  we  thank  thee.  We  thank 
thee  for  tidings  of  good  in  other  churches.     We  beseech  of  thee  that  ebon  wilt 


i04         PROBLEM  03   JOY  AND   SUFFERING   IN  LIFE. 

spread  the  light  and  power  of  thy  word.  And  may  all  our  land  be  refreshed  and 
cleansed.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  establish  justice,  and  true  intelligence,  and 
true  virtue,  and  true  piety  throughout  all  the  bounds  of  this  land,  and  in  all  the 
world. 

Lord  Jesus,  come !  and  by  thy  light  and  thy  .power  overthrow  iniquity. 
Bring  light  out  of  darkness.  And  may  that  blessed  day  at  last  come,  so  long  pre- 
dicted, in  which  thou  shalt  reign  upon  the  earth,  and  all  nations  shall  be  sub- 
dued to  thy  way. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  shall  be  praise  everlasting. 
Amen. 


PRATER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

OtJK  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  truth  to  all  that  have 
heard  it.  Bless,  we  pray  thee,  our  thoughts  ;  and  as  they  wander  up  and  down 
through  the  vast  and  tangled  experiences  of  life,  give  us  thy  sure  word  of  guid- 
ance. Rise,  thou  Star  of  Bethlehem,  that  we  may  never  be  quite  in  the  darkness 
of  midnight.  Let  us  still  see  above  our  head  the  clear  sky,  and  the  bright  shining 
sun,  prophesying  summer  in  the  midst  of  winter. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  we  may  not  live  by  our  sight,  by  things  as 
they  seem  to  our  senses,  but  by  faith  ;  by  this  larger  thought  of  God's  purposes 
in  our  manhood  ;  by  this  larger  sense  of  the  inward  and  hidden  meaning  of  hu- 
man life.-  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  every  one  of  us  may 
take  our  staff  now,  and  travel  on  from  strength  to  strength,  growing  purer,  wiser 
nobler,  more  disinterested,  more  loving,  more  lovable,  and  more  spiritual,  until 
at  last  we  stand  in  Zion  and  before  God.  And  then,  0  patient  and  gentle  Lover ! 
O  sufferer  for  us  !  we  will  cast  our  crowns  at  thy  feet,  saying.  Not  unto  us,  not 
unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name,  be  all  the  glory.    Amen. 


xn. 
The  Apostolic  Theory  of  Preaching. 


THE 


APOSTOLIC  THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

SUNDAY  MORNING,  MAT  30,  1869. 


"  Some  indeed  preacli  Clirist  even  of  envy  and  strife ;  and  some  also  of  good 
•will :  tlie  one  preacli  Christ  of  contention,  not  sincerely,  supposing  to  add  aMc- 
tion  to  my  bonds  :  but  the  other  of  love,  knowing  that  I  am  set  for  the  defense 
of  the  Gospel.  What  then?  notwithstanding, every  way,  whether  in  pretense,  or 
in  truth,  Christ  is  preached  ;  and  I  therein  do  rejofce,  yea,  and  will  rejoice." — Phil. 
i.  15-lS.    • 


In  such  a  sentence  as  this,  every  word,  almost,  is  emphatic.  There 
is  one,  however,  that  maybe  lifted  up  into  prominence,  perhaps,  more 
fully :  "  What  then  ?  notwithstanding,  every  way."  WTiatever 
he  the  way  in  which  a  man  preaches — that  is  the  meaning  of  it — lohat- 
ever  sort  of  lyreaching  Christ  it  is,  T rejoice  in  it. 

Consider  this  case.  Paul  lay  in  captivity.  Faithful  friends  and 
adherents  he  had,  who  generously  sought  by  their  diligence  in  preach- 
i/ig  to  make  up  the  loss  of  his  service.  They  loved  him,  loved  the 
Master,  loved  the  work  of  the  Gospel.  But  there  were  other  preach- 
ers ;  and  the  epithets  applied  to  them  leave  us  little  to  respect  in  them. 
They  were  envious,  combative,  contentious,  insincere,  malignant ;  for 
what  else  than  that  is  it  to  preach  "  hoping  to  add  affliction  to  my 
bonds"  ?  What  sympathy  had  a  man  with  Christ  who  sought  to 
make  the  imprisonment  of  his  chief  apostle  more  burdensome  by  the 
exquisite  torture  of  preaching  Christ  in  such  a  way  that  the  persecu- 
tion against  a  doctrine  should  fall  back  upon  the  head  of  the  apos- 
tle? 

Take  notice  of  Paul's  way  of  looking  at  these  things.  When  he  de- 
clares, "  What  then?  notwithstanding"  they  preach  from  envy,  and 
from  strife,  and  from  contention,  and  from  hoping  to  make  my  cap 
tivity  worse  ;  "  notwithstanding,  every  way,  whether  in  pretense,  oi 
in  truth,  Christ  is  preached;  and  I  therein  do  rejoice,  yea,  and  will  re- 
joice," it  is  very  plain  that  these  men  who  were  using  the  Gospel  of 


196  TEE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

Christ  as  a  weapon  of  personal  malignity  were  not  ordained  nor 
apostolical  preachers.  And  yet,  Paul  found  much  cause  of  joy  in 
their  preaching.  Bad  as  their  spirit  was,  and  imperfect  as  the  preach- 
ing of  Christ  must  always  be  in  the  case  of  unrenewed  and  unspirit- 
ual  men,  it  was  cause  of  joy  rather  than  of  sorrow  to  him.  Paul's 
example,  therefore,  is  eminent.-  It  is  a  i-ebuke  to  the  excessive  eccle- 
siastical spirit.  Paul  saw  something  good  in  the  Avorst  men  who 
preached.  Modern  precisionists  see  the  worst  in  the  best  men.  Paul 
looked  on  the  good  side.  Modern  orthodoxy  is  disposed  always  to 
look  on  tlie  bad  side.  If  a  vase  was  cracked,  Paul  turned  it  round, 
and  looked  'upon  the  side  where  it  was  not  cracked.  If  a  vase  is 
cracked,  we  are  disposed  to  turn  it  round,  and  look  on  the  side  where 
the  crack  comes.  Paul  would  certainly  rather  have  men  preach  Christ 
that  loved  Christ ;  but  rather  than  that  Christ  should  not  be  preach- 
ed, he  was  willing  that  those  Avho  did  not  love  him  should  preach. 
Paul  desired  that  men  Avho  lived  in  sympathy  with  him  and  the  church 
should  preach  Christ;  but  rather  than  that  Christ  should  not  be 
preached,  he  was  willing  that  men  who  were  at  enmity  with  the  one 
and  the  other  should  preach  Christ.  He  was  willing  that  men  who  had 
not  been  apostolically  orddined  should  preach,  rather  than  that  there 
should  not  be  any  preaching.  But  stickling  pretenders  to  his  place 
would  shut  up  all  who  had  not  had  regular  hands  laid  on  regular 
heads,  rather  than  that  their  preaching  should  not  be  canonical  and 
right.     This  certainly  is  not  apostolicity. 

But  what  was  it  that  led  Paul  to  find  reasons  of  joy  even  in  his  bit- 
ter enemies  ?  It  was  that  Christ  loas  preached.  That  fact,  in  its 
poorest  method,  was  so  transcendent  that  it  was  of  intensely  more 
importance  than  the  incidental  errors  and  imperfections  and  wrongs. 
The  rising  sun  in  the  morning  brings  ten  thousand  noxious  insects  to 
life,  brings  miasma  from  the  morass,  and  sets  disease  flying  through 
the  land ;  nevertheless,  in  spite  of  malaria,  and  in  spite  of  all  venom- 
ous insects  that  then  begin  to  move,  and  in  spite  of  all  mischiefs 
which  waking  men  begin  to  perform,  it  is  infinitely  better  that  the 
sun  should  rise,  and  that  these  evils  should  take  place,  than  that  it 
should  be  everlastingly  dark.  It  was  better  to  have  Christ  preached 
by  bad  men  than  not  at  all.  It  was  better  to  have  the  Gospel  imper- 
fectly delivered  than  not  to  have  it  made  known  in  any  way,  or  only 
to  a  limited  extent.  The  truth  preached  with  manifold  and  manifest 
error  is  a  thousand  times  better  than  none  at  all. 

While  the  full  and  symmetrical  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  will  do  far 
more  good,  and  good  of  a  far  higher  type,  than  any  fragmentary  view, 
yet  such  is  the  vitality  and  power  of  Christian  truth  that  its  very 
fragments  are  potent  for  good.     It  is  scarcely  possible  to  preach  the 


THE  AP08T0LIG   TEEOBT   OF  PREACHING.  197 

Gospel  so  poorly  that  it  is  not  far  better  than  not  to  have  it  preached 
at  all. 

If  modern  thought  be  correct,  this  is  a  strange  doctrine  to  be 
found  in  the  Bible ;  but  it  is  a  legitimate  inference  from  Paul's  ex- 
ample. 

Consider  the  sweetness  of  Paul's  soul.  On  him  rested  Christ's 
work  among  the  Gentiles.  He  was  a  sufferer  for  the  cause  of  Christ. 
He  had  laid  the  foundation  of  Christian  institutions.  The  churches 
were  identified  with  his  name,  as  well  as  with  Christ's.  And  these 
men,  in  I*aurs  captivity,  preached  Christ  only  for  the  purpose  of 
destroying  Paul,  and  destroying  his  work.  But  the  personal  irrita- 
tion, the  pride,  of  the  pastorate,  the  intolerable  itch  of  heresy-hunt- 
ing, found  no  place  in  Paul's  mind.  The  conduct  of  these  men  gave 
him  occasion  for  joy.  "I  rejoice;  yea,  and  I  loill  rejoice."  There 
you  have  it — the  voice,  and  the  echo ;  the  impulse,  and  the  after- 
thought. His  joy  was  this:  "Bad  as  men  are,  imperfect  as  their 
mission  is,  erroneous  as  much  of  their  teaching  must  be,  still  there  is 
something  of  Christ's  truth  there ;  and  so  precious  is  the  truth  of 
Christ,  so  vital  and  powerful  is  it  even  in  its  very  fragments,  that  I 
rejoice,  in  spite  of  all  these  things,  that  they  are  preaching  it." 

Consider  what  a  testimony  this  is  to  the  power  of  Christian  truth. 
It  is  so  divine  that  the  smallest  part  of  it  is  radiant  of  heavenly  light. 
One  may  stand  before  an  ample  glass,  long  and  broad,  which  reflects 
the  whole  figure,  and  the  wliole  room,  giving  every  part  in  proportion 
and  in  relation.  Break  that  mirror  into  a  thousand  fragments,  and 
each  one  of  these  pieces  will  give  back  to  yon  your  face  ;  and  though 
the  amplitude  of  view  and  the  relations  of  objects  are  gone,  yet  the 
smallest  fragment,  in  its  nature  and  uses,  is  a  mirror  still,  and  joucan 
see  your  face  withal. 

A  full  Christ  reflects  men,  time,  and  immortality  ;  but  let  error  shat- 
ter the  celestial  glass,  and  its  fragments,  reduced  in  value,  do  in  part 
some  of  that  Avork  which  the  whole  did  ;  and  they  are  precious.  The 
whole  Christ,  very  God,  yet  incarnate,  and  now  ever-living,  the  head 
over  all  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  that  pure  mirror ;  but 
bi'eak  it — let  some  preacli  Christ  as  human ;  and  some  as  divine,  but 
not  as  Deity  ;  and  some  as  the  only  God,  without  Father  or  Spirit ; 
and  some  as  the  Father  alone— and  imperfect  as  these  varying  ways 
may  be,  it  is  impossible  but  that  good  shall  be  done  by  them.  For, 
although  they  do  not  contain  the  whole  truth,  they  contain  something 
of  the  trutlu  Much  as  we  may  regret  their  imperfection,  it  is  ours 
to  rejoice  that  there  is  as  much  as  there  is  even  in  the  most  imper- 
fect, and  limited,  and  rude  representations  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Christ  Jesus. 


198  TEE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

If  I  have  given  tlie  right  interpretation  of  the  apostle's  spirit,  there 
hang  upon  it  some  weighty  inferences. 

1.  We  here  see  the  tnie  ground  of  Christian  toleration.  It  is  not 
an  enforced  forbearance  with  men  who  teach  error.  Some  men  keep 
their  hands  off  from  errorists  because  the  law  will  not  let  them  touch 
them.  They  would  burn  them  if  they  could,  but  they  do  not  dare; 
and  that  they  call  toleration  !  That  is  the  same  kind  of  self-denial 
which  boys  practice  when  the  fruit  hangs  ripe  and  tempting  in  the  gar- 
den, and  they  will  not  touch  it  because  the  stone  wall  is  so  very  high 
that  they  can  not  climb  over.  There  are  men  Avho  think  they  tolerate 
error  because  they  can  not  get  at  it.  They  can  not  burn  nor  silence 
the  heresiarch,  and  so  they  dignify  their  impossibilities  with  the 
name  of  toleration. 

It  is  not,  either,  a  recognition  of  the  right  of  men  to  freedom  of 
thought  and  experience.  Each  man  has  the  same  right  to  form  au 
independent  opinion,  and  to  act  according  to  his  convictions,  that  we 
have  ;  and  we  arc  bound  to  respect  that  right  in  others  which  we 
ourselves  exercise ;  but  this  is  only  a  part  of  the  duty  of  toleration. 

Still  less  is  Chi-istian  toleration  indifference  to  error  or  to  truth. 
How  many  men  there  are  who  laugh  at  the  quarreling  of  churches, 
and  say,  "  Oh !  you  ought  to  exercise  the  same  toleration  Avhich  we 
feel !"  There  are  men  who  do  not  care  whether  you  teach  God  or 
Jupiter ;  who  do  not  care  whether  it  is  Greek  mythology,  or  Roman 
mythology,  or  Christian  theology  that  you  teach  ;  who  are  profoundly 
indifferent  to  any  thing  and  every  thing  ;  and  they  call  that  tolera- 
tion. It  is  not  toleration.  True  Christian  toleration  is  a  generous 
confidence  in  the  vitality  of  the  truth.  It  is  the  immovable  convic- 
tion of  a  man's  mind  that  even  in  its  most  imperfect  form  truth  carries 
divine  benefit  with  it ;  and  that  it  is  strong  enough,  if  you  give  it 
a  fair  chance  to  make  its  own  way,  to  purge  itself  from  the  error 
that  is  generated  Avith  it  in  its  original  inceptions.  True  toleration 
is  confidence  in  truth,  and  in  the  God  of  truth.  It  is  the  belief 
that  God  has  so  ordered  nature  and  society  and  Christian  institu- 
tions that,  if  there  be  freedom  given,  truth  will  vindicate  its  supe- 
riority over  all  cunning  forms  and  combinations  of  error.  It  is  a 
large  and  catholic  confidence  not  only  in  the  essential  verity  of  truth, 
but  in  the  essential  victory  of  truth.  It  is  only  another  name,  there- 
fore, for  faith  in  the  truth  of  God.  It  is  born  of  hope,  nursed  by 
courage,  and  adopted  by  love.  As  Moses  was  adopted  by  the  king's 
daughter,  so  is  toleration  by  love.  Its  prevalence  will  not  be  the  let- 
ting down  of  barriers,  but  will  rather  be  the  building  up  of  health. 

There  is  some  truth  in  all  error.  That  truth  will  work  sov- 
ereignly, and  spread,  healing  evil,  if  only  it  be  not  malignantly  buf- 
feted.    It  is  persecution  that  makes  error  dangerous.    The  tolerance 


THE   APOSTOLIC   THEORY   OF  PREACHING.  199 

of  Christian  love  and  faith  will  speedily  cure  evil.  Love  is  the  medi- 
cine of  all  moral  evil.  By  it  the  world  is  to  be  cured  of  sin.  Love 
saved  the  world  ;  and  when,  in  the  consummation  of  all  things,  sin 
and  deatli  shall  die,  and  joy  and  purity  shall  be  universal,  then  love 
shall  sit  regent,  Jcing  of  kings,  and  lord  of  lords.  It  is  this  spiiit  that 
enters  into  true  toleration. 

Paul,  lying  in  bonds,  sensitive  to  the  last  degree  to  his  own  repu- 
tation, sensitive  to  the  good  name  of  his  Master,  and  to  the  success 
of  the  cause,  beheld  rampant  and  ravening  men  taking  his  doctrine 
for  a  mere  pretense,  and  preaching  it,  and  preaching  it  as  crudely  and 
rudely  as  truth  could  be  preached  ;  and  how  natural  it  would  have 
been  for  him  to  have  taken  offense,  and  to  have  cried,  "  Silence, 
silence  the  mischievous  men  !  Put  them  down !"  But  no.  He  said, 
"Let  them  go  on;  let  them  go  on  :  I  rejoice  in  it ;  yea,  and  I  zoill 
rejoice  to  the  end."  For,  in  spite  of  their  bad  motives,  and  in  spite 
of  their  bad  handling,  there  is  something  of  Christ,  after  all,  that 
will  be  preached  by  these  men  that  otherwise  would  not  have  got 
out.  And  the  least  particle,  the  smallest  fragment,  of  truth,  is  so 
unspeakably  pi-ecious  that  it  is  worth  while  to  wade  through  ten 
thousand  times  its  bulk  in  error,  for  the  sake  of  getting  at  it. 

2.  If  Paul's  spirit  is  right,  then  we  need  to  amend  our  view  of 
social  and  moral  responsibility.  He  saw  bad  men  taking  his  place, 
and  preaching  to  his  disciples  ;  and  yet  he  held  his  peace,  so  far  as 
they  were  concerned.  He  let  them  go  on.  He  rejoiced  in  their  work, 
though  not  in  the  motive  of  it.  Had  he  lived  in  our  day,  he  would 
have  been  taught  a  different  doctrine.  He  would  have  been  told, 
*'  Unless  you,  by  public  and  open  protest,  cleanse  your  skirts  from 
these  men,  you  are  responsible  for  what  they  teach.  You  must  not 
go  with  men  that  hold  to  error.  If  you  do,  you  are  responsible  for 
that  error."  He  would  have  been  told,  as  many  are  told,  "  You  can 
not  afford  to  sit  in  a  church  where  there  are  great  errors  taught. 
You  are  responsible  for  those  errors  unless  you  separate  yourselves 
from  the  men  Avho  hold  to  them  and  teach  them."  And  he  would  have 
been  asked  at  the  communion  of  our  Lord,  "  How  can  you  sit  down 
and  commune  with  men  that  you  know  are  godless  and  wicked  ?  Do 
not  you  take  upon  you  the  responsibility  of  the  conduct  and  errors  of 
men  that  are  heretical,  or  even  immoral,  if  you  are  seen  sitting  side 
by  side  with  them  at  the  Lord's  table  ?" 

Paul  would  have  replied,  "  Who  made  you  the  judge  of  another 
man's  servant  ?  and  who  made  me  the  judge  of  another  man's  ser- 
vant ?  To  his  own  master  he  standeth  or  falleth."  Every  man  was 
born  into  the  world  alone,  and  every  man  will  die  out  of  the  world 
alone  ;  and  every  man  that  comes  into  the  world  or  goes  out  of  the 
world  stands,  in  a  certain  sense,  responsible  to  God  for  his  conduct 


200  TEE   APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

or  belief.  I  am  not,  therefore,  responsible  for  what  other  men  do. 
If  I  please  to  work  with  men  that  ai"e  heretical  in  every  point  of 
theology,  but  that  are  not  heretical,  that  is,  who  are  right  in  the  point. 
in  which  I  work  with  them,  I  am  not  responsible  for  their  wrong  be- 
liefs. I  am  responsible  for  that  part  which  I  take,  but  not  for  the 
other  parts  which  they  take.     They  are  responsible  for  them. 

It  is  supposed,  for  example,  that  if  Theodore  Parker — who  was 
not  believed  to  be  the  most  orthodox  man  that  ever  preached — had 
gone  into  a  campaign  of  temperance,  and  I  had  appeared  on  the  j^lat- 
form  with  him,  and  worked,  as  the  expression  is,  "  hand  and  glove  " 
with  him,  I  would  have  been  at  fault.  Men  would  have  said,  "  How 
can  you,  a  Christian  minister,  {reasonably  orthodox,)  afford  to  go  on 
the  platform  with  a  man  who  is  notoriously  heretical  ?  Do  not  you 
give  your  influence  to  him  ?  and  do  not  you  take  a  part  of  the  re- 
sponsibility of  that  man's  errors,  unless  you  protest  against  them  ?" 
No !  I  say  that  if  the  platform  on  which  I  stood  with  him  had  been 
temperance,  and  if  that  platform  had  been  a  good  one,  I  should  have 
been  justified,  so  far  as  standing  there  was  concerned,  and  I  should 
not  have  been  responsible  for  any  thing  beyond  that.  I  should  not 
have  stood  with  him  there  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  nor  on  the 
doctrine  of  depravity,  nor  on  the  doctrine  of  regeneration  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  nor  on  the  doctrine  of  church  organization. 
It  would  have  been  simply  the  practical  question  of  saving  men  from 
the  demon  of  intempei-ance.  I  should  have  stood  with  him  on  that 
ground,  and  should  not  have  been  responsible  for  the  other  things  in 
which  he  believed. 

Shall  a  man  say,  in  the  heat  of  battle,  as  at  Gettysburg,  to  the 
man  by  his  side,  "  Before  I  fight  with  you  any  longer,  I  must  know 
what  your  notions  are  about  the  creed  "  ?  Is  he  responsible  for  what 
that  man  believes?  There  is  one  thing  on  which  they  are  agreed,  and 
that  is  patriotism  ;  and  being  agreed  on  that,  let  them  work  together 
for  patriotic  ends.  Because  I  work  with  a  man  in  a  thing  about 
which  he  and  I  are  agreed,  I  am  not  responsible  for  the  other  things 
about  which  we  are  not  agreed. 

Paul,  in  some  sense,  praised  these  men.  He  was  grieved  at  the 
great  amount  of  error  that  there  was  in  them ;  but  the  small  amount 
of  truth  which  he  saw  pleased  him  more  than  all  the  error  displeased 
him.  His  was  one  of  those  sweet,  manly  minds,  that  saw  the  posi- 
tive, the  noble,  the  good,  and  ran  for  that,  and  turned  away  from  the 
evil,  unwilling  to  look  at  that.  He  was  not  a  morbid  anatomist.  I 
can  imagine  surgeons  so  in  love  with  their  business  that,  whenever 
they  meet  a  man,  they  look  upon  him  and  say,  "  He  looks  well 
enough ;  but  I  will  warrant  that,  if  I  had  him  on  the  table,  I  could  find 
that  he  was  ruptured  somewhere.     He  appears  all  right ;  but  if  I 


THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHlNa.  201 

could  only  get  at  liim,  I  could  find  defects  enough  in  him."  There 
are  men  that  like  to  cut ;  that  like  to  hunt ;  that  like  to  smell  rotten- 
ness afar  off;  that  like  disease,  and  morbid  conditions ;  that  gloat 
over  these  things. 

You  recollect  that,  in  one  of  Walter  Scott's  stories,  one  of  the 
characters  is  a  surgeon,  who  is  always  tittering  and  laughing  at 
every  pain  he  produces.  When,  for  instance,  he  is  performing  the 
operation  of  taking  out  an  arrow,  and  the  man  winces,  he  laughs,  and 
says,  "  Does  it  hurt  you  ?"  And  as  he  salves  it,  and  binds  it  uj), 
every  twinge  of  pain  makes  him  laugh  ! 

I  have  seen  no  such  example  as  that  in  dealing  with  men's  bodies, 
but  I  have  seen  that  which  was  almost  parallel  to  it  in  dealing  with 
men's  souls,  and  with  their  errors.  I  have  seen  persons  that  looked 
on  a  man  only  to  see  where  the  sores  were,  and  handled  a  man  only 
to  hit  the  nerves  and  make  him  wince,  and  laughed  and  seemed  to 
rejoice  in  the  morbid  conditions  that  they  were  exposing.  I  have 
seen  men  that,  every  Sunday,  wallowed  knee-deep  in  human  rotten- 
ness, and  seemed  to  delight  in  .it.  Their  calling,  apparently,  was  to 
preach  about  sin,  sin,  sin.  They  were  continually  finding  fault  on 
the  right  and  on  the  left,  on  the  north  and  on  the  south.  I  have 
seen  men  that  took  pleasure  in  nothing  so  much  as  "  showing  ujd"  a  doc- 
trine, or  showing  up  a  chui'ch.  Is  that  the  Pauline  spirit  ?  Is  that 
the  Christian  spirit  ?     Is  that  the  manly  spirit  ? 

Suppose  it  should  be  said  that  every  man  who  goes  to  the  Fifth 
Aa' enue  Hotel  was  responsible  for  every  family  in  that  hotel.  If  he 
behaves  himself  at  the  table,  and  behaves  himself  in  his  own  room, 
and  behaves  himself  in  his  going  out  and  coming  in,  would  it  be  fair 
to  hold  him  responsible  for  the  whole  congeries  of  families  there  ? 
And  would  it  be  fair  to  make  any  one  family  in  this  chui'ch  respon- 
sible for  the  good  or  bad  conduct  of  all  the  other  families,  or  any 
other  family,  in  it  ?  We  are  not  so  organized  and  affiliated  that  we 
can  control  each  other,  and  therefore  we  are  not  responsible  one 
for  another.  What  if  it  should  be  held  that  in  a  school  each  scholar 
was  responsible  for  the  student  character  of  every  other  scholar  ? 
There  is  no  such  docti'ine  of  responsibility.  Each  boy  stands  on  his 
own  feet.  As  the  saying  is,  "Every  tub  stands  on  its  own  bottom." 
And  as  it  is  in  school  regulations,  so  it  is  in  church  fellowship.  I  am 
responsible  for  the  docti'ines  that  I  preach  here ;  but  if  another 
man  comes  into  my  pulpit  and  preaches  a  heretical  doctrine,  he  is  re- 
sponsible— not  I.  "  Ah  !  but !"  it  is  said,  "  people  will  understand  it 
differently."  Then  that  is  a  reason  why  they  should  be  tauglit  bet- 
ter. It  is  not  a  reason  why  I  should  lose  my  liberty,  but  it  is  a 
reason  why  I  should  teach  them  to  see  things  in  a  larger  light. 

This  difficulty,  which  blinds  the  conscience  of  many  men,  is  really 


202  THE  APOSTOLTG   THEOUT  OF  PBEACEING. 

in  the  way  of  Christian  unity.  There  are  many  persons  of  tender 
consciences,  many  persons  of  unenlightened  consciences,  and  many 
persons  of ,  educated  and  miseducated  consciences,  who  hold  that  it  is 
a  part  of  their  fealty  to  Christ,  not  only  to  be  pure  in  their  morals, 
and  to  purely  hold  that  system  of  truth  which  has  been  taught 
them,  but  to  be  in  some  sense  responsible  for  those  who  are  in  other 
denominations.  Therefore,  when  they  are  called  to  fellowship  and 
unity  and  cooperation,  it  is  with  exceeding  fear  and  hesitation  that 
they  approach  the  subject,  "  It  is,"  they  say,  "  letting  down  the  bars 
through  which  all  manner  of  errors  shall  come  into  the  church ; 
and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  well-informed  and  rigorous-conscienced 
man  to  see  to  it  that  no  harm  shall  be  done  to  the  church  by  his  care- 
lessness or  ill-timed  sympathy."  ♦ 

If  this  doctrine  of  responsibility  is  true,  I  do  not  see  how  we  are 
ever  going  to  come  together  in  Christian  sympathy  and  cooperation 
and  liberty.  If  I  am  responsible  for  every  body  that  I  talk  with,  and 
walk  with,  and  work  with,  and  cooperate  with  generally,  I  shall  re- 
treat from  one  and  another,  and  become  less  and  less  cooperative, 
until  at  last  I  shall  stand  absolutely  by  myself.  Is  that  the  spirit  of 
Christ  ?  It  is  a  narrowing,  belittling  spirit.  Nay,  verily,  Paul  is  a 
better  exponent.  Even  the  worst  case  that  you  could  imagine  gave  him 
joy  in  his  heart.  He  went  out  with  these  bad  men  that  preached  the 
Gosjjel  for  even  a  malicious  purpose,  and  he  said,  "  I  rejoice  in  it ;" 
and  he  did  not  consider  himself  responsible  for  their  conduct,  either. 

3.  This  Christian  toleration,  founded  in  faith  and  love,  leads  to 
the  real  and  the  only  union  possible  to  the  Christian  church.  There 
never  will  be  a  union  in  the  Christian  church  until  the  time  comes 
when  men  feel  that  the  interior,  invisible,  spiritual  substance  of  re- 
ligion is  transcendently  of  more'imj)ortance  than  its  external  for- 
mulas, whether  of  belief  or  discipline.  These  are  not  unimportant,  by 
any  means ;  but  there  never  will  be  Christian  union  in  this  world 
until  men  come  to  feel  that  the  invisible,  sjDiritual  elements  of  ti'uth, 
the  interior  experiences  of  the  soul,  are  transcendently  more  impor- 
tant than  the  idea  forms,  or  the  government  forms,  or  the  worship 
forms  of  the  church.  It  is  impossible  to  secure  unity  by  the  spirit  of 
organization,  of  government,  or  of  ceremony.  These  are  not  only 
external,  material,  of  the  earth  earthy,  but  they  are  of  man's  device. 
They  are  not  the  less  useful,  perhaps,  on  that  account.  I  do  not 
consider  that  if  the  mowing-machine  had  been  invented  by  St.  Peter, 
and  had  come  down  to  us,  without  change,  perfect,  it  would  have  been 
any  better  than  it  is  now,  after  having  originated  in  man's  wit  and 
device,  and  come  down  through  successive  improvements  to  its  pre- 
sent condition  and  perfectness.  When  a  thing  is  good,  it  is  good 
•  without  reference  to  where  it  comes  from.     A  truth  is  not  a  bit  truer 


THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING.  203 

when  God  speaks  it,  than  when  a  man  speaks  it.  When  a  truth  is  spoken 
to  you  which  you  are  doubtful  about,  if  God  speaks  it,  the  presump- 
tive evidence  of  it  is  greater  than  if  a  man  speaks  it.  But  a  truth 
which  is  no  longer  disputed,  which  is  admitted  to  be  true,  is  just  as 
true  if  a  man  first  spoke  it,  as  it  would  be  if  an  angel  first  spoke  it. 
The  evidence  of  truth  is  in  itself,  after  it  has  once  been  ascertained. 

And  so  it  is  with  all  institutions.  If  a  church  had  been  framed 
in  an  apostolic  age,  perfect  in  every  line  and  lineament,  it  would 
have  been  no  better  than  a  church  which  has  been  framed  and  per- 
fected as  the  result  of  the  exjperience  of  two  thousand  years,  and  that 
fully  answers  the  ends  of  a  church.  It  is  by  the  fruit  that,  you  are  to 
judge. 

I  do  not  say  that  a  church  is  better  because  all  its  government 
is  human — but  all  church  governments  are  human;  or  because  all 
its  worshij)  is  human — but  all  forms  of  worshij)  are  pure  human  in- 
ventions ;  or  because  all  its  organization  is  human — but  it  is  human. 
There  is  not  a  single  line  or  letter  of  the  Bible  that  establishes  pope — 
and  to  that  you  will  all  say,  "  I  believe  you ;"  nor  cardinal — you  will 
all  say,  '•  I  believe  you ;"  nor  bishop — nine  tenths  of  you  will  say, 
"  I  believe  you ;"  and  the  other  tenth  will  say,  "  Well,  I  do  not  like 
to  go  too  far  in  that  direction ;"  nor  presbyter — a  good  many  of  you 
will  say,  "  There  is  evidence  of  that."  I  say  there  is  evidence  in  this : 
that  every  man  who  is  called  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  has  the 
gifts  of  preaching,  has  a  right  to  preach.  Your  preacher  is  a  man 
that  is  carved  out  by  men's  hands — that  is  ordained  by  certain  out- 
wai-d  cei'emonies ;  but  an  externally  ordained  man  has  no  warrant  m 
Scrij)ture.  Any  man  that  has  the  love  of  Jesus,  and  the  power  to 
preach  the  love  of  Jesus,  is  the  N  ew  Testament  preacher,  but  not  the 
ecclesiastical  preacher — not  the  preacher  of  the  church  that  bears  the 
name  of  Christ. 

I  hold  that  bishops  are  all  well  enough.  I  do  not  object  to  bish- 
ops. I  dare  say  I  should  like  to  be  a  bishop  myself  !  I  do  not  object 
to  a  pope.  His  place  is  eminently  desirable ;  and  I  do  not  sui>pose 
there  is  a  man  in  this  congregation  who  would  not  be  a  j^ope  if  he 
could.  It  is  not  a  pope  that  we  object  to,  but  it  is  the  Pope  in  Rome. 
We  do  not  object  to  the  pope  that  lives  in  us.  Every  man  has  a  pope 
in  him.  There  are  in  the  family  hundreds  of  popes,  male  and  female. 
Wherever  men  can  have  power  over  others,  and  they  exercise  it,  and 
love  it,  they  are  pope.  And  I  do  not  object  i^ai'ticularly  to  any 
church  that  chooses  to  organize  itself  with  a  pope,  and  cardinals,  and 
bishops,  and  priests,  and  ministers,  provided  it  says  that  neither  of 
them  is  of  such  divine  ordination  as  to  be  obligatory  on  the  whole 
church.  If  they  merely  say,  "  Experience  has  taught  us  that  this  kind 
of  organization,  this  method  of  preparing  ministers  and  governors  in 


204  THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

the  church  is  a  good  one,  and  leads  to  the  accomplishment  of  a  good 
woi'k,  and  we  prefer  it,"  I  have  no  more  to  say.  It  is  their  liberty, 
and  I  resjject  that  liberty,  I  might  not  like  to  conform  to  such  a 
method,  but  I  have  no  objection  to  it,  "When,  however,  they  attemjDt 
to  impose  it  on  me ;  when  they  say  to  me,  "  You  must  do  so  and  so ;" 
when  they  say,  "  Unless  the  church  in  which  your  worship  is  thus  and 
thus  organized,  and  has  just  such  an  order  of  men,  it  is  not  a  Christian 
church ;"  when  they  look  benevolently  down  upon  me  from  their  hu- 
man-built walls,  and  say,  "  You  may  be  saved  out  of  your  church ; 
don't  know ;  it  is  j)ossible ;  God  is  very  merciful,  but  it  is  an  uncoT- 
enanted  mercy ;  you'll  have  to  take  your  chance :  we  up  here  are  go- 
ing to  be  saved;  but  you  down  there,  that  live  irregularly — can't 
make  you  any  promises ;  you'd  better  come  in  here,  and  be  safe — " 
when  men  take  this  way  with  me,  I  am  even  wickeder  than  they  are. 
I  have  more  contempt  for  them  than  they  have  for  me.  They  must 
not  attempt  to  force  their  human-made  institutions  upon  me.  If  they 
say  they  are  good,  and  take  them  of  their  own  free  choice  because 
experience  has  shown  that  they  are  good,  that  is  fair  and  rational. 
I  make  no  objection  .to  that.  But  where  they  undertake  to  say  that 
it  is  the  only  thing  whereby  a  man  shall  be  saved,  I  lift  up  my  heart 
and  my  Christ  against  them,  and  say,  "My  salvation  comes,  not 
thi'ough  this  medium  cfr  that,  but  from  God's  great  love  to  my  soul 
through  Jesus  Christ,  and  I  am  safe,  though  all  the  ocean  should  lift 
against  me  its  mighty  waves,  and  storms  embattled  should  sweep  the 
heavens,  '  If  God  be  for  me,  who  can  be  against  me  ?'  I  stand  in  the 
verity  of  this  simple  power  of  God's  heart  on  my  heart.  That  saves 
me,"  And  if  they  say,  "  You  have  gifts  for  preaching,  and  you  might 
have  been  a  tolerable  preacher  if  you  had  been  properly  ordained,"  I 
reply  that  I  zoas  pi'operly  ordained.  My  father  ordained  me.  Ah  !  I 
was  better  ordained  than  that :  my  greater  Father  ordained  me.  He 
ordained  me  twice :  first,  when  he  put  his  hand  on  my  head  before  I 
was  born,  and  said,  "  Be  a  head ;"  and  then,  after  I  had  carried  it 
around  a  few  years,  when  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and  touched  my 
lieart  rather  than  my  head,  and  said,  "  Be  ordained  again."  First,  he 
makes  the  head-piece,  to  think ;  and  then  he  touches  the  heart,  and  says, 
"  Go  preach  my  Gospel."  When  a  man  has  had  that  done  to  him,  he 
is  ordained,  A  pope  could  not  make  him  any  better  ;  a  bishop  could 
not  make  him  any  better ;  a  whole  presbytery  could  not  make  him 
any  better.  Yet,  if  a  man  says,  "I  should  feel  better  if  I  only 
thought  that  this  bishop  had  been  touched  by  that  bishop,  and  that 
bishop  by  that  bishop,  and  that  bishop  by  that  bishop,  and  that  bish- 
op by  that  bishop,  clear  back  to  the  apostolic  battery,  and  that 
finally  a  little  spai-k  had  come  down  on  me,"  then  that  is  his  liberty. 
Let  him  by  all  means  take  the  shock  !     I  have  no  objection  to  it.     It 


THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHUVG.  205 

is  a  free  country,  not  only,  but  it  is  a  fr§e  ecclesiastical  economy. 
You  have  perfect  liberty  to  take  whatever  you  think  will  make  you 
feel  b(!tter.  If  this  mode  of  ordination  addresses  itself  to  your  senti- 
ment, to  your  poetical  instincts,  or  even  to  your  affections — which  is 
the  last  thing  that  I  can  imagine — and  if  you  want  it,  that  is  the 
reason  why  you  should  be  at  liberty  to  take  it.  It  is  not  this  that  I 
object  to  in  high  churches.  It  is  their  domination ;  it  is  their  arro- 
gance; it  is  their  despotism;  it  is  their  declaration  that  the}/  are  the 
people^  and  that  loisdom  shall  die  with  them;  it  is  their  assumption 
that  there  is  but  one  order,  and  that  that  is  in  their  church.  I  hold 
that  every  man  who  knows  Christ  Jesus,  and  loves  Him,  and  loves 
his  fellow-men,  not  only  has  a  right  to  preach  what  he  is,  and  what 
Christ  has  done  for  him,  and  what  life,  and  life  eternal,  is,  but 
has  a  right,  if  he  chooses,  to  gather  those  to  whom  he  preaches 
into  a  brotherhood,  and  call  them  a  church  ;  and  if  he  chooses  to  dis- 
pefise  the  bread  and  wine  to  them,  that  is  the  communion  of  the 
Lord's  Supper.  Though  never  priest  saw  him,  nor  minister  touched 
him,  he  is  ordained,  and  is  authorized  to  administer  the  sacrament. 

Oh !  that  those  men  who  are  so  fond  of  finding  the  apostles  could 
only  find  the  inside  as  well  as  the  outside.  What  they  seem  to  seek 
is  the  apostles'  old  coats,  their  old  linen,  their  cast-off  garments — not 
that  glowing  soul  of  catholicity,  not  that  large  element  of  true  and 
manly  love,  not  that  broad  sense  of  liberty,  not  that  intense  feeling 
of  personal  independence,  which  was  in  Paul,  and  which  was  in  the 
Master  before  him. 

The  sooner  it  is  understood  that  churches  and  sects  are  just  what 
States  are  in  this  government,  the  better  it  will  be.  A  man  is  borri 
in  Connecticut,  and  he  thinks  it  is  the  best  State  in  the  Union — until 
he  sees  some  other.  And  when  he  goes'  out  of  it,  he  does  not  forget 
his  native  State.  He  goes  to  New-York,  and  settles  there  ;  but  does 
any  body  think  of  saying  to  him,  "  Turncoat !  turncoat  !  born  and 
brought  up  in  Connecticut,  and  left  it,  and  gone  to  live  in  another 
State  with  an  entirely  different  organization  "  ?  By  and  by,  on  a 
land  speculation,  he  moves  to  Michigan ;  but  is  it  said  of  him,  "  Ca- 
pricious fellow !  always  changing  his  State  ;  born  in  Connecticut, 
lived  in  New- York,  and  now  settled  in  Michigan  "  ?  What  if  he  goes 
next  to  Illinois,  and  then  to  Mississippi,  and  then  to  Georgia,  and 
then  to  the  Carolinas,  and  to  Old  Virginia,  does  any  body  charge  him 
with  recreancy  ?  He  may  think  that  some  one  of  these  States  is  bet- 
ter than  any  other,  and  yet  be  a  true  patriot.  It  is  a  part  of  our  civic 
liberty,  that  a  citizen  of  one  State  is  a  citizen  of  every  State.  And  it 
oucrht  to  be  so  in  church  orgfanization.  Here  are  the  Methodists,  the 
Baptists,  the  Lutherans,  the  Pi-esbyterians  of  different  shades,  the 
Episcopalians,  and  the  different  shades  of  Catholics,  (for  the  Catholic 


206  THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHINO. 

Church  is  like  a  chestnut  burr :  the  burr  is  one,  but  there  are  two 
nuts,  and  sometimes  three,  inside  of  it !) — here  are  all  these  various 
denominations  or  sects ;  and  I  hold  that  a  person  ought  to  feel  about 
them  as  he  does  about  States  or  towns.  If  you  are  in  a  place  where 
the  Episcopal  church  is  the  one  that  gives  you  the  most  food,  do  not 
hesitate  to  go  into  that  church.  There  is  no  inconsistency  in  such  a 
course.  Or,  going  from  that  place  to  another,  is  it  a  Presbyterian 
church  that  is  best  calculated  to  do  you  good  ?  You  are  perhaps  a 
red-hot  Congregationalist ;  but  you  need  not  on  that  account  hesitate 
to  go  into  a  Presbyterian  church.  If  you  find  that  there  Grod's  minis- 
trations best  fit  you,  go  there.  These  are  externalities.  They  are 
matters  of  perfect  indifference,  so  far  as  consistency  is  concerned. 

I  hold  that  there  is  a  i^ref  erence  among  governments  ;  but  I  also 
hold  that  the  poorest  government  so  far  answers  the  end  of  govern-  ■ 
ment,  that  a  man  can  stand  in  it ;  and  that,  however  different  govern- 
ments are,  one  from  another,  a  man  is  not  inconsistent  that  passes 
from  one  to  the  other.  And  as  it  is  with  governments,  so  it  ought  to 
be  with  churches.  There  ought  to  be  a  door  so  wide  between  sects, 
that  when  a  man  is  with  Methodists,  he  can  be  a  Methodist ;  and  when 
he  is  with  Baptists,  he  can  be  a  Baptist ;  and  when  he  is  with  Pres- 
byterians, he  can  be  a  Presbyterian ;  and  when  he  is  with  Episcopa- 
lians, he  can  be  an  Episcopalian  ;  and  when  he  is  with  Congregation- 
alists,  he  can  be  a  Congregationalist. 

Why,  I  keep  house  my  way — our  way !  It  is  the  best  way,  un- 
doubtedly. I  think  so,  at  any  rate.  If  I  did  not,  I  should  change 
it.  My  next-door  neighbor  keeps  house  differently.  I  go  to  see  him, 
and  take  breakfast  or  dinner  with  him ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  polite 
for  me  to  point  out  to  him  how  inferior  I  consider  his  way  to  mine. 
And  I  do  not  think  it  inconsistent  for  me  to  spend  days  very  plea- 
santly at  a  friend's  house,  though  his  notions  of  housekeeping  are 
different  from  mine.  I  say  to  myself,  "These  variations  in  house- 
keeping are  quite  consistent  with  neighborhood  unity."  Some  men 
breakfast  at  six  in  the  morning — blessings  on  such  folks ;  others 
breakfast  at  eight ;  others  at  nine  ;  and  others  at  ten,  (and  still  call 
it  breakfast !)  Some  men  prefer  a  certain  dish  fried  ;  and  others  j^refer 
it  broiled.  Some  prefer  much  condiment.  The  caster  is  in  great 
glory  on  their  table.  Others  abhor  vinegar  and  mustard,  and  all 
manner  of  catsu^js.  Some  prefer  meats,  and  others  a  vegetable 
diet.  "  Let  every  man  be  fully,  persuaded  in  his  own  " — mouth  ! 
Let  every  man  have  liberty  in  housekeeping.     There  is  no  harm  in  it. 

As  it  is  in  regard  to  our  -most  intimate  domestic  relationships, 
just  so,  precisely,  will  it  be  in  religion,  when  the  large  Christian 
spirit,  the  spirit  of  love,  is  stronger  'than  the  sj^irit  of  sectarianism 
and  division,  and  churches  keep  house  as  they  please.    We  Congre- 


TEE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING.  207 

gationalists,  here,  keep  house  as  we  please.  Our  Baptist  brother,  in 
the  next  street,  keeps  house  as  he  pleases,  differing  from  us  only  in 
the  quantity  of  water  that  he  uses.  My  neighbor  Schenck,  of  St. 
Ann's,  keeps  house  as  he  pleases.  He  has  a  large  economy  of  house- 
keeping. He  keeps  house  with  more  aspect,  more  show,  more  service 
and  ceremony,  than  I  am  accustomed  to.  That  suits  him,  and  it  does 
not  unsuit  me.     And  when  I  go  there,  I  conform  to  it. 

When  I  go  to  an  Englishman's  house,  I  say  to  myself,  "  In  all 
things  that  do  not  affect  moral  princij^le,  I  am  an  Englishman  so 
long  as  I  stay  under  this  roof."  When  I  go  to  a  man's  house  in 
France,  I  say,  "In  all  things  that  do  not  touch  principle,  so  long  as 
I  stay  here  I  am  a  Frenchman."  And  I  not  only  adapt  myself  to 
the  customs  of  the  household  where  I  am,  but  I  observe  the  laws  of 
the  country  that  I  am  in.  I  do  not  honor  the  laws  of  another  laud 
as  I  do  the  corresponding  ones  in  my  own  land  ;  but  I  respect  them. 

Now,  Avhat  is  the  reason  that  persons  have  learned  to  have  this 
tolerance  of  each  other  in  the  family  a-nd  in  the  civil  state,  and  have 
not  yet  learned  the  same  royal  and  economic  and  wise  lesson  in 
ecclesiastical  affairs  ?  Why  is  it  that  men  think  it  incumbent  upon 
them  to  be  cats  and  dogs  in  religion,  and  gentlemen  in  every  thing 
outside  of  it  ? 

I  remember  perfectly  well  when,  if  a  New-School  minister  had 
gone  into  a  church  where  an  Old-School  minister  was  preaching — or 
rather,  that  it  may  not  be  invidious,  if  an  Old-School  minister  had 
gone  into  a  church  where  a  New-School  minister  was  preaching,  we 
(I  belonged  to  the  New  School)  should  almost  have  thought  it  a  part 
of  fidelity  to  our  cause  to  have  given  that  man  a  "  wipe  "before  he  went 
out,  to  show  him  that  we  stood  on  our  own  ground  !  If  a  Methodist 
had  been  preaching,  and  he  had  seen  a  Calvinist  in  the  house,  he 
would  have  gone  off  in  favor  of  free  grace,  and  against  the  five  points 
of  Calvinism ! 

Suppose  I  should  invite  an  Englishman  to  my  house,  and,  as  soon 
as  he  had  taken  his  seat,  should  begin  on  him,  and  say,  by  way  of 
entertaining  him,  "Do  you,  sir,  think  that  a  queen  is  as  good  as* a 
president  ?  Do  not  you  think  that  a  monarchy  is  about  the  meanest 
government  on  the  face  of  the  eai'th  ?"  That  whi'ch  we  would  scorn 
to  do  in  the  family,  that  which  we  would  consider  a  breach  of  polite- 
ness in  the  household,  men  are  perpetually  doing  in  churches  and 
assemblies  of  Christian  men  ;  and  in  doing  it  they  think  they  are 
serving  God  and  obeying  their  own  consciences! 

*  Do  you  suppose  there  will  ever  be  unity  in  the  church  until  there 
is  a  different  spirit  ?  And  when  there  is  a  different  spirit,  do  you 
suppose  church  organizations  are  going  to  help  or  hinder  ?  They  are 
matters  of  indifference  so  far  as  unity  is  concerned ;  but  they  are 


208       '    THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHINa. 

matters  of  universal  joy  and  liberty ;  and  they  ought  to  be  so  free 
that  a  man  can  go  among  them  all,  having  his  own  preferences  and 
preiDOSsessions,  and  yet  respecting  other  people's  liberties. 

I  hope  the  time  will  come  when  I  can  worship  at  the  hands  of  a 
Roman  priest  and  be  edified,  as  I  have  worshiped  at  tlie  hands  of 
an  English  priest  and  bishop  and  been  abundantly  edified.  I  be- 
lieve the  time  Avill  come  when  the  liberty  and  catholicity  of  all  sects 
will  be  such  that  men  will  not  be  talking  about  abolishing  denomi- 
nations and  sects.  The  idea  is  an  absurdity.  They  never  will  be 
abolished.  But  the  time  will  come,  I  believe,  when  a  man  will  feel 
at  home  in  them  all,  and  wheii  Christianity  will  be  open  and  free  to 
all  alike.     Then  you  will  have  Christian  union. 

I  remark  again,  that  it  is  impossible  to  secure  any  visible  and  ex- 
ternal unity  of  Christians  by  doctrinal  identity.  I  make  this  state- 
ment without  prejudice  to  the  importance  of  men's  having  right  be- 
liefs, and  on  all  proper  occasions,  and  in  all  proper  methods,  reducing 
those  beliefs  to  right  forms  of  statement.  I  believe  in  creeds ;  but 
I  disbelieve  in  the  despotism  of  creeds.  Men  who  say,  "The  Bible  is 
my  creed,"  are  very  much  like  philosophers,  that  I  can  imagine.  I  am 
very  much  interested  in  the  discussion  that  is  going  on  about  the  ori- 
gin of  the  human  race.  Charles  Darwin's  writings  are  full  of  profound 
matter.  All  those  schools  that  are  reasoning,  are  bringing  u])  princi- 
ples that  no  educated  and  well-informed  man  can,  with  self-respect, 
avoid  considering.  But  suppose  I  were  talking  to  a  man,  and  should 
say  to  him,  "What  views  do  you  hold  on  this  subject  of  the  origin  of 
the  human  species  ?"  and  he  should  say,  "  The  encycloj^edia  is  my 
creed  "  ?  The  encyclopedia,  you  know,  is  a  book  which  contains,  or 
purports  to  contain,  every  thing  that  belongs  to  the  siim  of  human 
knowledge.  And  that  is  his  creed  !  A  man  might  just  as  well  say, 
"  I  believe  in  the  world,  and  all  that  it  contains."  But  what  do  you 
believe  it  contains?  That  is  the  question.  What  do  you  believe 
about  the  generic  origin,  and  the  special  developments,  of  things  ? 
Every  age  discusses  such  subjects.  And  it  is  absurd  to  say  that  you 
balieve  in  the  Bible.  Tlie  Bible  is  an  encyclopedia  of  moral  know- 
ledge. It  epitomizes  the  results  of  the  various  ages  down  to 
the  time  of  Christ.  And  the  question  is,  "  What  are  its  contents  ? 
What  does  it  teach?"  To  say  that  you  believe  in  the  whole 
of  it^  without  being  able  to  say  what  you  believe  particularly 
in  it,  is  a  miserable  subterfuge.  I  hold  that  creeds  are  merely 
statements  of  the  specialties  of  men's  beliefs.  And  they  are  nat- 
ural, not  only,  but  a  man  without  a  creed  is  generally  a  man  with- 
out a  head.  Every  man  believes,  and  disbelieves,  in  certain  definite 
things ;  and  if  he  should  write  those  things  down,  he  would  have  a 
written  creed.     And  if  he  should  get  other  men  to  agree  with  him, 


THE  APOSTOLIG   THEORY  OF  PREACHING.  209 

lie  would  have  a  common  creed.  But  when  men  say  that  they  believe 
the  truth,  the  whole  truth^  and  nothing  hut  the  truth,  and '  that  men 
must  take  it  just  so,  fitted  to  their  notions,  that  is  an  abuse  of  a  creed. 
A  creed  is  a  good  thing  to  teach  a  congregation  by,  and  to  catechise 
children  by.  It  is  good  to  lay  down  general  points  of  belief  around 
which  a  congregation  may  gather.  But  a  creed  is  not  a  whip  of  scor- 
pions by  Avhich  we  are  to  lash  each  other's  backs. 

I  go  further.  I  believe  that  there  will  be  a  similarity  of  beliefs  in 
the  final  sympathetic  union  toward  which  the  church  is  moving ;  but  I 
do  not  believe  that  men  will  hold  the  same  philosophical  creeds,  all  alike. 
I  do  not  believe  it  is  possible  to  bring  churches  together  on  any  such 
ground.  I  do  not  think  that  the  beliefs  of  luen  who  are  differently 
constituted  can  be«  symbolized  by  one  single,  definite  form.  For  ex- 
ample, a  man  that  has  large  reflective  faculties  and  small  perceptive 
faculties,  will  have  a  creed  very  different  from  that  of  a  man  who  has 
large  perceptive  faculties  and  small  reflective  faculties.  Here  is  a 
man  that  is  a  dry  thinker.  He  has  no  social  emotions,  and  no  artis- 
tic feeling.  The  truth  that  he  sees  is  truth  as  bare  as  granite. 
There  is  no  flower  on  it,  and  no  color  in  it.  It  is  pure,  high,  dry, 
speculative  truth.  And  that  seems  to  him  sweet  and  beautiful.  It 
conforms  to  his  organization.  But  his  next  neighbor  is  a  man  tliat  is 
poetically  endowed ;  and  no  truth  seems  beautiful  to  him  that  has 
not  leaves  and  flowers.  To  his  mind,  that  color  which  comes  from  feel- 
ing is  an  essential  part  of  the  statement  of  the  truth  itself.  Therefore 
he  never  could  take  the  symbol  of  the  other  man.  They  may  hold  the 
same  great  facts,  but  not  in  the  same  language — certainly  not  in  the 
same  technical  and  philosophical  terms.  A  man  that  is  a  reasoner 
and  factualist ;  a  man  that  is  eminently  a  matter-of-fact  man ;  a 
dreamer;  a  seer  ;  a  sharp  analyst;  a  man  that  looks  up  and  around, 
and  perceives  the  minutest  objects — you  can  not  bring  all  these 
men  to  the  same  form  of  statement,  to  the  same  symbolism  ;  and  the 
attempt  to  do  it  is  an  attempt  to  violate  the  economy  of  nature. 
God  did  not  mean  that  it  should  be  so. 

I  believe  iu  the  doctrine  of  man's  sinfulness,  and  I  state  it  in  my 
way  and  language.  I  hear  other  men,  who  believe  it  just  as  much 
as  I  do,  state  it  in  their  Avay.  I  can  not  take  their  statement,  and 
they  can  not  take  mine ;  but  why  should  Ave  not  go  along  side  by 
side?  Why  should  we  insist  upon  fighting  each  other?  Why 
should  we  not  recognize  each  other's  liberty  ?  Why  should  I  not 
state  it  as  it  seems  to  me,  and  leave  him  to  state  it  as  it  seems  to  him  ? 
Take  the  question  of  God's  grace  in  the  soul.  It  looks  to  you  one 
Avay  ;  and  to  another  man  it  looks  another  Avay ;  and  you  give  your 
statement,  a,nd  he  gives  his. 

O  sun !  come  from  the  Avinter  to  the  spring,  and  let  there  be  uni 


210  THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PUEACHmQ. 

versal  buds  and  flowers.  In  response  to  my  prayer  and  supplication, 
the  sun  comes  forth.  And  first  I  perceive  the  chick-weed  blossom- 
ing, almost  inconspicuous.  It  is  born  again  of  the  sun,  and  shows 
the  sun's  power.  Just  beyond  there  is  a  clump  of  violets.  They 
are  born  again  out  of  death  into  life  by  the  power  of  the  sun.  Further 
on  are  bulbs  of  various  kinds.  And  each  develops  in  its  own  way. 
One  has  one  style  of  leaf  or  bloom,  and  another  another.  And  they 
multiply  as  the  sun  grows  warmer,  till  the  woods  and  fields  swai'm  with 
myriads  of  growths,  some  purple,  some  red,  some  white,  some  blue, 
some  green,  all  shades  and  combinations  and  forms  being  represented. 
They  are  all  born  of  the  sun,  and  brought  into  their  life  and  power ; 
and  yet  they  are  widely  different  in  their  structure  and  appearance. 
Would  you  reduce  them  all  to  one,  and  have  nothing  but  daisies.^ 
nothing  but  tulips,  or  nothing  but  violets  ?  Are  not  God's  abundant 
riches  in  this,  that  when  he  creates  life  from  death  in  so  many  ways, 
there  are  presented  such  variations  of  beauty  and  amiableness  ? 

So  it  is  with  the  truths  of  the  Gospel.  God  does  not  make  those 
truths  the  same  to  any  two  minds.  If  men  had  the  subtle  power  of 
analysis,  so  as  to  seize  just  what  they  feel,  and  put  their  feelings  ex- 
actly into  words,  I  believe  it  would  be  found  that  no  two  persons  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  ever  stated,  or  could  state,  their  views  of  a  fiict 
alike.  God,  that  never  made  two  faces  alike  ;  God,  that  never  made 
two  leaves  alike  ;  God,  that  makes  unity  with  infinite  diversity — he 
does  not  mean  that  men  shall  feel  just  alike.  The  amplitude  of 
being  is  expressed  by  variations  of  being  that  go  back  to  essential 
unity,  and  take  hold  of  a  common  root.  And  the  attempt  to  bring 
the  glowing  and  fervid  Orientals,  the  staid  and  practical  Occiden- 
.tals,  the  mediaeval  minds,  the  artist  minds,  the  sombre  and  unirra- 
diating  natures,  and  the  light  and  gay  natures,  all  to  one  statement 
of  speculative  truth,  is  as  wild  and  preposterous  as  the  boy's  race 
after  the  rainbow.     It  can  not  be  done. 

Hence,  before  we  can  have  a  unity  of  the  church,  we  must  have 
something  better  than  external  unity  of  organization,  or  internal  unity 
of  statement  of  doctrine. 

This  it  is  that  is  revealed  in  the  passage  which  we  have 
made  the  basis  of  our  remarks  this  morning.  Although  it  is  not 
carried  out  with  any  fullness,  we  have  there  that  which  is  to  be  the 
substantial  element  of  every  true  Christian  unity.  It  is  not  to  be  an 
outward  one.  It  is  to  be  an  inward  one.  It  is  to  be  the  spirit  of  true 
love  one  to  another — love  in  spite  of  fault ;  love  in  spite  of  difference ; 
love  that  has  no  regard  whatever  to  any  thing  less  than  Christ  and 
God. 

Did  you  ever  think  that  when  Christ  governs  his  church  on  earth 
he  is  like  a  husbandman  who  drives  home  to  his  barn  his  load  of 


THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING.  211 

wheat  ?  How  much  of  it  is  straw  !  How  much,  when  he  threshes 
it,  is  husk  and  chaff!  How  much,  when  lie  grinds  it,  is  bran  !  For 
a  ton  that  he  drives  home  from  the  field,  he  will  show  you  two  hun- 
dred weight  of  wheat,  perhaps.  And  when  God  takes  this  church, 
he  takes  it,  straw  and  chaff  and  all.  When  he  takes  our  neighboring 
churches,  he  takes  them  straw  and  chaff  and  all.  And  we  must  all 
rise  so  high  into  the  spirit  of  the  eternal  God  that  we  can  take  men, 
straw  and  chaff  and  all,  and  gather  them  with  the  many  imperfections 
of  the  vehicles  in  which  they  grow. 

When  the  time  of  unity  comes,  it  will  be  a  time  when  men  will 
cease  to  make  minute  inquisitions  into  the  root,  and  straw,  and  husk, 
and  bran.  It  will  be  a  time  when  men  shall  feel  toward  each  other, 
"  Thou  lovest  Christ,  and  Christ  loves  thee ;  and  that  is  the  only 
bond  that  is  needful."  Love  to  God  and  man  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
laio.  Who  are  ye  that  dare  impose  more  than  this  as  a  ground. of 
cooperation  and  unity  ?  He  that  is  ever  so  orthodox,  if  he  does  not 
love,  is  a  heretic  ;  and  the  greatest  heretic,  if  he  loves  God  and 
loves  man  is  orthodox.  For  orthodoxy  is  of  the  heart.  The  head  is 
but  the  servant,  the  implement.  And  when  we  can  come  together  as 
churches;  when  all  Christians,  in  all  Christendom,  understand  the 
evidence  of  truth  to  lie  in  the  fruit  of  the  truth;  when  gentleness,  and 
meekness,  and  humility,  and  love  prevail  among  men ;  when  there  is 
fervent  and  self-denying  woi-sliip  toward  God,  these  things  ought  to 
be  considered  enough  for  substantial  unity.  Unity  is  of  the  heart, 
not  of  the  body.  Unity  is  not  in  government  nor  in  creeds,  but  in 
faith,  and  hope,  and  love  :  the  greatest  of  which  is  Love. 

Wherefore,  let  us  close  with  the  words  of  the  apostle,  "Till  we  all 
come  in  the  unity  of  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God, 
unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness  of 
Christ."  There  is  the  model  union.  It  is  expressed  in  the  term 
Christian  manhood. 

God  grant,  in  this  day,  when  rent  churches  are  coming  together, 
that  all  kind  auspices  may  rest  upon  the  restored  union.  When 
churches  are  reaching  out  hands  that  are  not  accepted,  as  between 
the  Methodists  North  and  the  Methodists  South — when  churches 
•are  seeking  union,  and  yet  refusing  to  clasp  hands — God  bring 
again  more  than  the  old  love,  and  restore  them  to  unity.  Let 
churches,  if  they  will,  seek  to  make  themselves  national ;  but  do  not 
augur  too  hopefully.  Churches  are  not  strong  in  proportion  as  they 
are  geographically  united.  If  it  is  better  in  the  esteem  of  those  who 
have  the  management  of  these  things  that  the  churches  should  be  so 
united,  let  them  labor  for  that  consummation ;  but  the  power  of  the 
Gospel  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  arithmetical  ratio.  It  does  not  lie 
in  the  number  of  church  rolls.      It  is  not  the  number  of  presby- 


212  THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY   OF  PREACHING. 

teries  or  the  number  of  synods  that  is  going  to  test  the  power  of 
Christ.  Unquenchable  zeal  and  love  are  going  to  give  power  to  the 
church — not  these  external  things. 

When  the  bishops  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  England  send 
greetings  to  their  brethren  the  bishops  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in 
America,  and  invite  them  to  go  over  and  confer  with  them,  that  there 
may  be  a  Pan-Anglican  Church,  let  them  go.  The  voyage  is  plea- 
sant, the  meetings  are  pleasant,  and  some  good  may  come  out  of  it. 
But  you  must  not  expect  too  much.  You  can  not  do  a  great  deal  by 
these  externalities.  If  these  bishops  come  back  to  America  humbler 
than  they  went,  and  with  a  more  profound  sense  of  the  value  of  souls, 
and  a  clearer  conception  of  the  brotherhood  of  men,  that  part  of  their 
Pan-Anglicanism  will  do  good.  But  the  external  features  of  it  are  of 
but  little  consequence. 

When  the  mild  and  summery  old  Pope  sends  his  missiA^e  to 
Presbyterians  and  Episcopalians,  and  says,  "  Brethren,  wandering  in 
irregular  paths,  behold  !  we  have  called  an  ecumenical  council :  come 
all,  that  a  universal  Christendom  may  be  represented  in  this  coun- 
cil :"  I  say  to  the  Pope,  "  God  bless  you,  dear  old  man  ;  and  God  bless 
your  bishops,  and  make  them  a  hundred  times  holier  than  they  are  ; 
and  God  bless  all  the  churches  that  are  under  your  authority  accord- 
ing to  the  arrangements  of  men.  If  it  were  convenient  for  me  to  go 
to  Rome,  and  I  could  throw  any  light  on  the  liberty  of  the  individual, 
I  would  sit  in  your  council.  But  it  matters  very  little  to  me  w^hether  I 
go  or  stay.  For  the  church  is  not  with  you.  You  do  not  own  Christ, 
and  you  do  not  own  the  world.  Grace  be  unto  you,  because  you  are 
a  part  of  God's  flock,  with  all  your  faults.  Grace  be  unto  you  in  all 
your  endeavors.  However  imperfectly  your  priests  and  bishops  may 
preach  ;  however  much  they  may  have  brought  down  from  a  mediaeval 
ase  of  lufrsfa^e  on  their  backs,  nevertheless,  I  Avill  rejoice  because, 
anyhow,  Christ  is  preached." 

I  would  not  put  out  the  Catholic  Church  if  I  could.  If  God  were 
to  give  me  the  power  to  destroy  all  the  churches  that  exist,  saying, 
"  You  have  only  to  speak  to  sweep  them  from  the  face  of  the  earth," 
I  don't  know  of  one  that  I  would  annihilate.  I  say,  further  than  that, 
I  am  so  firmly  convinced  of  the  divine  economy  of  divisions,  of. 
various  organizations,  in  the  church,  that  if  power  were  put  into  my 
hands,  and  I  were  told  by  the  Almighty,  "  If  you  but  speak  the  word, 
all  churches  shall  be  identified,  and  there  shall  not  be  a  single  sect 
on  the  globe,"  I  would  not  speak  it.  I  would  say.  Let  the  churches 
stand  as  they  are,  so  far  as  mere  organization  is  concerned.  They 
came  together  by  elective  affinity  ;  and  each  has  hidden  in  its  bosom 
some  great  element  that  perhaps  none  of  the  others  have.  So  vast  is 
the  truth,  that  it  is  not  given  to  any  man  or  set  of  men  to  tell  the 


THE  APOSTOLIC    THEORY  OF  PREACHING.  213 

wliole  of  it.  It  takes  one  part  to  tell  one  side  ;  another  part  to  tell 
another  side ;  another  part  to  tell  another  side ;  and  still  another 
part  to  tell  another  side.  And  then  the  whole  is  not  unfolded.  Ages 
to  come  must  correct  past  ages,  and  add  to  this  anthem  that  discloses 
all  manner  of  divine  love  and  divine  grace.  All  I  would  do,  if 
God  gave  me  the  power,  would  be  to  hold  ray  hand  out  over  the 
scattered  sects  in  Christendom,  that  make  the  one  church,  and  say, 
Ztove  one  another^  and  so  fulfill  the  lam. 

May  God  bring  that  blessed  day  to  pass,  in  his  own  good  time. 
Meanwhile,  let  us  not  say  any  thing  that  aggravates  or  irritates. 
Let  us  be  bold.  Let  us  be  fearless.  Let  us  stand  for  our  own  con- 
victions. Let  us  receive  men  because  they  are  men,  and  because 
they  are  Christ's.  Let  .us  work  for  universal  Christianity,  for  true 
catholicity ;  and  let  us  work  in  the  sj^irit  of  love  to  God  and  to 
man.     Amen, 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON. 

We  bless  tliee,  O  tliou  eternal  God !  lifted  far  above  our  comprehension. 
Thou  hast  stooped  and  enshrined  the  meaning  of  thyself  in  the  word  "  Father," 
and  so  interpreted  what  thou  art  to  us ;  but  what  thou  art  to  be  when  we,  growing 
through  all  thy  discipline,  shall  come  to  be  sons  of  God  indeed,  priests  and  kings 
— what  fatherhood  shall  there  be — we  know  not ;  yet  full  of  blessedness  it  is.  We 
know  that  then  thy  fatherhood  shall  lift  us  up  even  more  wondrously  than  now, 
and  that  the  blessings  which  we  imagine  we  shall  inherit,  and  that  the  joys 
which  shine  in  us  fragmentarily,  shall  lift  themselves  as  mountains  round  about 
us  forever.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  not  even  since  the  revelation  of  the  Spirit,  nor 
hath  ear  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive,  what  things 
thou  hast  reserved  for  them  that  love  thee  ;  and  toward  all  this  precious  heritage 
we  are  going  day  by  day. 

Wh^  do  we  mourn,  why  do  we  bow  down  our  heads  as  the  willow,  why  are 
we  filled  with  doubts  and  questions,  since  we  know  of  immortality,  and  that  our 
portion  in  Christ  Jesus  is  sure  ?  What  matters  it  what  befalls  us  here — whether 
we  have  our  affections  gratified,  whether  all  the  ways  of  life  are  sown  with  flow- 
ers, whether  all  things  make  music  to  our  ears,  or  whether  we  are  strangers  and 
pilgrims  girded  about  with  sackcloth  upon  a  Aveary  way,  since  the  way  is  sure, 
and  the  time  can  not  be  long,  and  thou  art  near  and  precious,  and  all  that  is 
innermost,  and  most  essential  to  manhood,  is  fed  by  the  way  ?  By  faith  we  take 
hold  on  the  unseen  ;  and  we  are  ministered  unto.  Blessed  art  thou,  O  God  !  that 
do.st  lend  and  send  forth  ministering  angels  by  which  we  are  protected  and  incited 
along  our  way.  Blessed, be  thy  Spirit  that  not  once,  but  evermore,  hath  fallen 
upon  us,  and  that  hath  made  the  pentecost  universal  and  perpetual.  Blessed  art  thou, 
O  Lord  !  that  dost  love  us,  and  that  hast  loved  us,  and  that  wilt  love  iis  to  the  end, 
and  that,  by  the  influences  of  nature  and  life,  and  by  thy  grace,  and  by  thine  own 
personal  power  and  indwelling,  wilt  mould  us  until  we  are  made  perfect  men  in 
Christ  Jesus. 


214  THE  APOSTOLIC   THEORY  OF  PREACHING. 

Grant,  we  pray  tliee,  tiiat  we  may  not  be  discouraged  at  tlie  greatness  of  tlia 
way,  nor  at  any  part  of  our  own  experience.  May  we  not  Toe  vanquished  by 
temptations,  and  not  be  cast  down,  nor  destroyed.  Lift  upon  us  tlie  light  of  thy 
countenance,  if  we  are  in  darkness.  Give  us  renewed  courage,  if  despondency  hath 
taken  hold  of  us.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  if  we  have  turned  out  of  the  way 
and  wandered  to  our  own  harm,  we  may  not  be  unwilling  to  turn  back  and  re- 
trace the  same  way,  and  feel  again  the  piercing  thorn,  and  again  feel  the  flint. 

We  beseech  thee  that  we  may  count  ourselves  worthy  of  eternal  life.  May  we 
count  all  other  things  as  of  no  value  compared  with  the  life  that  is  to  come. 
Here  are  we  with  diminished  powers  ;  here  with  but  the  beginnings  of  the  know- 
ledfe  of  how  to  be  joyful ;  here  where  joy  is  a  stranger,  or  is  fitful  in  all  its  work. 
O  Lord  !  grant  that  we  may  not  take  these  fragments,  these  gleams,  and  inherit 
them  as  our  portion.  May  we  look  at  the  joys  which  thou  didst  behold  when  thou 
didst  endure  the  cross  and  despise  the  shame  ;  at  those  joys  which  stand  eternally 
at  the  right  hand  of  God.  May  we  set  our  affections  on  things  above,  and  not 
upon  things  on  the  earth.  And  so  may  we  become  ripened  in  the  power  of  en- 
joying. So  may  we  seek  our  life  where  it  is,  hidden  with  Christ  in  God.  And 
though  we  lose  these  through  many  tears,  through  thorns,  through  troubles  ; 
though  we  are  pursued  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  may  we  still  patiently  hold 
on,  and  endure  unto  the  end,  that  finally  we  may  be  raised,  and  come  to  all  our 
manhood,  and  to  all  our  power,  and  to  all  our  glory  in  the  heavenly  estate. 

And  now,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  not  seek  these  things  selfishly,  but 
by  love.  And  may  we  rejoice  in  all  those  that  are  seeking  them  with  us.  May 
it  be  ours  to  count  them  dear  to  us  as  brethren  and  sisters  ;  and  may  we  seek  to 
bear  their  burdens.  May  we  cheer  those  that  are  pilgrims  with  us.  And  we  be. 
seech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  teach  thy  whole  church  how  to  esteem,  in  the  spirit 
of  Christ,  and  in  the  love  of  Christ,  all  whose  faces  are  set  as  though  they  were 
going  to  Jerusalem,  as  thine  own  brethren.  May  divisions  cease.  May  all  im- 
practicable measures  cease.  May  all  things  that  are  of  the  earth,  and  of  man's 
devices,  cease.  May  the  divine  Spirit  be  ministered  to  by  all  thy  people,  of  every 
name,  everywhere.  May  errors  be  brooded  by  love.  May  all  the  trouble  which 
befalls  men  through  human  infirmities  be  taken  out  of  the  way,  or  be  borne  cheer- 
fully, as  the  cross  that  is  to  be  borne.  Unite  thy  people,  in  confidence  and  in 
sympathy,  one  to  another.  Grant  that  the  common  works  which  engage  all 
may  be  participated  in  by  all  universally.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  liberty 
may  prevail  in  all  thy  churches,  and  that  a  deeper  spirituality,  a  truer  faith,  a 
nobler  love,  a  more  unquenchable  zeal  and  enterprise,  may  prevail  iHi  all  the 
world.  Hasten  the  day  when  persecution  shall  cease.  Hasten  the  day  when 
errors  themselves  shall  perish.  Hasten  the  glorious  consummation,  when  Jesus 
shall  come  to  reign  in  all  the  earth  a  thousand  years.  And  to  thy  naijie  shall  be 
the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


XIII. 
RIGHT 


AND 


Wrong  Way  of  Giving  Pleasure. 


THE  EIGHT  AND  THE  WRONG  WAY 


OF 


GIVING   PLEASUKE. 

SUNDAY  MORNING,  JUNE  6,  1869. 


"  Let  every  one  of  us  please  his  neighbor  for  his  good  to  edification." — ROM. 
xr.  2. 


There  are  many  who  live  to  give  pleasure,  careless  of  benefit,  and 
many  who  seek  to  instruct  without  giving  pleasure.  Either,  alone, 
is  imperfect.  Of  the  two  partialisms,  that  is  surely  better  which 
builds  us  up  in  truth,  no  matter  how  rudely  or  ruggedly,  .or  with 
what  harshness  and  pain.  But  why  should  the  processes  of  pleasure- 
giving  and  instruction  be  separated  ?  Pleasure  should  always  carry 
instruction,  and  knowledge  should  always  carry  pleasure.  "  Let  every 
one  of  us  please  his  neighbor  for  liis  good  to  edification." 

Let  every  one  of  us.  It  is  not  a  special  duty,  then,  of  certain  or- 
ganizations. It  is  true  that  there  are  some  to  whom  giving  pleasui'e  is 
easy.  It  is  their  nature.  They  are  called  agreeable  people.  They  are 
so.  Without  thought,  almost,  every  one  likes  their  presence.  It  is  a 
great  gift  of  God  to  be  so  harmoniously  and  sweetly  organized  that 
your  very  being  in  a  circle  is  a  benefaction  to  them.  There  are 
others  who  are  disposed  to  leave  to  these  persons  the  office  of 
pleasure-giving;  as  they  dp  songs  to  musicians,  and  lyrics  to  poets, 
and  pictures  to  artists.  Yet  no  man  may  throw  off  the  Christian, 
duty  of  conferring  pleasure. 

But  it  must  not  be  any  or  every  pleasure.  It  must  he  for  his  good 
to  edification.  You  have  not  a  right  to  make  men  happy  in  any  way 
— to  please  them  in  any  way.  And  yet  it  is  your  duty  to  please  all 
men,  and  for  all  of  you  to  do  it.     Not  every  thing  vhat  pleases  may 

Lbsson  :  Psalm  Ixviii.  1-20.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  216,  273, 688. 


216  TEE  RIOHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAT 

be  used,  but  that  only  which,  while  it  pleases,  also  has  in  it  the  ele- 
ment of  manhood  which  tends  to  please  the  right  faculties  in  the  right 
way.  This  architectural  word  edification,  which  means  building  up, 
is  much  used  by  Paul,  and  is  very  significant  here.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  carried,  in  its  spirit,  much  further  than  it  was,  probably,  in  intent, 
by  the  apostle.  It  may  be  said  that  nothing  should  go  into  the  con- 
struction of  a  temple  which  is  only  beautiful.  Mere  ornament  is  in 
bad  taste.  But,  in  building  up  any  part  substantially,  let  every  part 
be  likewise  tastefully  built.  Let  every  part  be  beautiful ;  but  let  the 
beauty  be  that  which  springs  from  substantial  uses.  Both  use  and 
beauty,  joined,  should  never  be  divorced. 

This  command,  as  apart  of  common,  universal  duty,  has  not  been 
well  received.  There  is  even  a  shrinking  from  it.  "  It  is  the  busi- 
ness of  religion  to  save  men,"  some  say,  "to  ennoble  them;  but  not 
to  be  pleasing  them."  There  are  a  great  many  reasons  why  men 
should  think  so. 

Pleasure  conveys  the  idea,  as  the  term  is  usually  employed,  of 
unspirituality.  It  is  a  catering  to  the  lower  nature.  There  is  so 
much  pleasure  derived  from  men's  instincts,  their  senses,  their  appe- 
tites, their  passions — pleasure  is  so  sensuous  and  self-indulgent  and 
degrading — that  it  has  come  to  have  a  bad  name  among  earnest  and 
truly  spiritual  men.  One  says,  instinctively,  "Life  is  hardly  long 
enough  to  do  the  solid  and  necessary  part  of  duty ;  and  shall  we  employ 
its  fugitive  hours  for  pleasure,  which  needs  no  fostering — which,  self- 
sown,  grows  like  a  weed,  choking  ou.t  all  useful  plants?"  Pleasure, 
in  Christian  esteem,  is  at  a  discount. 

The  observation  of  the  moral  character  of  those  who  live  to  confer 
pleasure  does  not  seem  to  mend  the  matter.  Since  history  began, 
and  the  world  over,  those  who  have  catered  to  the  pleasures  of 
men  have  been  themselves  of  low  moral  temperament.  It  is  so  yet. 
Pleasure-mongers  are  low  on  the  social  scale,  and  they  are  lower  yet 
on  the  moral  scale.  It  seems  to  damage  a  man's  very  moral  nature 
to  take  up  the  business  of  furnishing  pleasure.  Some,  in  dens,  please 
the  cruel  passions.  Some,  in  haunts  and  gorgeous  lairs,  minister  sen- 
suous pleasure.  Some,  in  ways  not  criminal,  minister  to  curiosity  and 
transient  excitement.  But  while  there  is  a  wide  difference  in  the 
moral  standing  of  those  at  tlie  top  and  those  at  the  bottom  of  the 
scale  of  pleasure-mongers,  it  is  still  true  of  all  classes  whose  business 
it  is  to  confer  pleasure  merely,  that  they  rank  low  in  moral  excellence. 
Pleasure-mongers,  the  world  over,  are  of  the  earth  earthy — of  the 
flesh,  and  not  of  the  spirit.  Therefore,  when  Paul  exhorts  men  to 
make  giving  pleasure  a  part  of  their  duty,  many  shi-ink. 

Nor,  when  we  look  from  j^rofessional  caterers  to  thousands  of  per- 
sons who  are  scattered  up  and  down  through  society,  and  who  make 


OF   GIVING    PLEASURE.  217 

their  way  with  men  by  exciting  pleasure  in  them,  do  we  find  our  scru- 
ples at  all  relieved. 

We  see  men  fawning  on  the  powerful.  The  magistrate  has  his 
supple  set,  who  continually  are  pleasing  him,  and  seeking  to  gain  their 
ends  by  keeping  him  pleased  with  himself  and  witli  tliem.  These 
parasites  study  his  faults,  and  nse  his  weaknesses  to  phiy  upon  them. 
They  seek  continually  to  scatter  flowers  before  him,  to  make  his  way 
pleasant,  and  to  make  him  look  upon  them  as  pleasure-breeders.  This 
is  the  capital  .which  they  invest.  It  is  their  business  which  they  are 
seeking  to  serve,  while  they  are  pleasing  the  strong  and  the  powerfuh 

Judges  have  their  favorites.  These  men  avoid  displeasing  them, 
praise  their  actions,  flatter  their  vanity,  woi'k  for  their  interests,  seek 
to  shield  them  from  adverse  criticism,  ply  them  with  deceitful  fivors, 
and  all,  not  from  friendship  or  affection,  but  for  selfish  ends  of  their 
own,  Plave  you  never  seen  ants  swarm  over  the  rosy  flower-buds  of 
the  opening  peony  ?  How  they  caress  it !  How  nimble  are  their 
thousand  tickling  feet,  as  round  and  round  the  circular  bud  they  go 
nursingly  !  Is  it  that  ants  love  flowers  ?  ISTo  !  It  is  that  they  may 
lick  up  the  sugary  secretion  which  exudes  from  the  flower-bud.  And 
so  there  be  many  that  serve  men,  not  because  they  love  them,  but  be- 
cause they  fain  would  suck  their  substance  out  of  them. 

Governors  and  Presidents  have  their  golden  fringes  too  ;  and  cler- 
gymen have  their  sentimental  admirers.  Society  is  full  of  examples 
of  men  who  are  sedulous  to  please  their  neighboi's.  They  get  as  far 
in  the  text  as  to  seektop/ease  their  neighbors  /  but  they  go  no  further. 
And  these  examples  do  not  tend  to  create  admiration  for  this  business 
of  giving  pleasure. 

Beside  this,  how  many  cringe  befoi-e  wealth  !  How  anxious  are 
many  men  who  ai*e  his  supple  inferiors  to  please  him  wdio  has  the 
golden  secret  of  power  !  They  praise  hira,  and  softly  rub  in  unctioua 
flattery.  They  repeat  his  limping  jests.  They  laugh  heartily  at  his 
unfeeling  words  cast  upon  the  poor.  They  run  to  please  him.  They 
give  up  to  him  the  best  seat.  They  serve  him  with  the  choicest  dishes. 
They  make  hira  an  idol,  and  themselves  heathen,  without  a  heathen's 
sincerity!     For,  all  this  they  do  for  their  own  good,  and  not  for  his. 

If  some  gross  but  callable  man  has,  in  the  corruptions  of  time, 
risen  to  eminence  in  the  market,  there  will  be  found  men  who,  though 
they  know  that  he  is  brutal  and  beastly,  though  they  know  his  bot- 
tomless lusts,  his  violent  and  unscrupulous  measures,  yet  will  not  hesi- 
tate to  weave  continuously  apologies,  and  cast  their  so-called  gar- 
ments of  charity  over  his  monstr.ous  wickedness,  and  say  complimen- 
tary things  to  him,  and  play  jackal  before  hira  and  monkey  behind 
him  ;  and  all  for  the  sake  of  some  advantage  which  they  hope  to  reap. 

But  once  let  November  come  to  hira  ;  let  the  leaves  blow  off"  from 


218  THE  BIOUT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAY 

his  boughs,  and  where,  now,  will  be  all  the  birds  that  sung  in  his 
b-ranches  ?  Gone — every  one  of  them  gone  !  The  only  song  for  him 
in  his  adversity  will  be  the  sharp  Avind  whistling  through  his  bare 
branches. 

Who  has  not  seen  the  toady  of  society — the  entozoon — the  flatter- 
er, who  smoothly  glides  through  household  after  household,  liking  all 
things,  praising  all  things,  smooth  and  plausible,  still  studying  your 
every  whim,  placating  pride,  coddling  vanity,  and  with  wondrous  in- 
stinct, but  like  the  needle,  small  and  bright,  carrying  the  thread  of  his 
own  selfishness  behind  him  all  the  time,  and  fabricating  his  own  in- 
terests ? 

Indeed,  when  one  looks  at  pleasure,  and  at  the  character  of  so 
many  that  live  to  please  their  neighbor,  it  is  no  wonder  that  men  re- 
fuse to  listen  to  Paul  in  this  injunction.  It  is  no  wonder  that  they 
rebound  to  the  other  extreme  of  gruff  honesty,  of  rude-tongued  sin- 
cerity, and  of  rugged  truth.  Men  say,  "  This  pleasing  business  is  de- 
moralizing and  degrading.  It  is  better  that  a  man  should  be  square, 
and  honest,  and  truth-speaking.  It  is  good  for  men  to  smart  some- 
times." And  so  men  crack  their  tongue,  as  a  driver  does  his  whip  ; 
and  they  have  come,  at  last,  to  think  that  the  tongue  was  meant  to 
be  a  whip. 

What,  then,  is  the  matter  with  these  pleasure-givers,  at  whom  we 
have  been  glancing,  that  their  work  is  base  in  them,  and  degrading  to 
those  to  whom  they  pander  ?  It  is  primarily  this  :  that,  in  so  far  as 
they  themselves  are  concerned,  they  are  acting,  not  from  a  moral,  a 
benevolent,  or  even  a  genei'ous  motive.  They  are  doing  an  insincere, 
and  therefore  an  unmanly  and  degrading  work.  There  is  nothing  that 
is  more  degrading  to  every  generous  instinct  than  for  a  man  to  make 
himself  servile  to  his  fellows  for  the  sake  of  some  profit,  or  deliber- 
ate gain.  He  coins  his  manhood,  and  sells  it  out  for  base  interests ; 
and  that  destroys  any  man,  ere  long. 

But.  more.  These  pleasure-mongers  are  wont  to  select  men's 
lower  natures,  exclusively,  on  which  to  play.  Men  already  have 
enough  strength  in  their  appetites.  It  is  not  necessary  to  gather 
together  more  viands  in  order  that  you  may  render  more  tempting 
that  which  already  tempts  too  much.  Gluttony  and  intemperance 
need  no  help.  They  go  without  crutches  in  this  world,  though  they 
bring  men  to  crutches  very  speedily.  And  there  is  no  need  of  seek- 
ing to  please  that  wdiich  knows  how  to  please  itself  by  the  instincts 
of  nature.  And  yet,  usually  men  please  low  down.  They  strike  the 
key  of  the  passions  and  the  appetites.  They  neglect  wholly  the  spir- 
itual instincts.  They  do  not  know  them.  They  work  on  men's 
passions.  They  strengthen  and  gild  all  that  is  evil.  They  are,  there- 
fore, peculiarly  demoralizing.     Because,  if  you   divide   every  man 


OF   GIVING    PLEASURE.  219 

into  two  parts — below  th.e  medium  Hue,  the  animal ;  and  above  it,  tlie 
mind — tliey  work  below  the  line  all  the  time,  and  are  pleasing  the 
animal  taste  in  every  man,  making  that  strong  which  already  needs 
the  bit  and  bridle;  making  that  rampant  which  already  is  unruly ; 
making  that  fruitful  which  already  sheds  its  seeds  like  pernicious 
weeds  in  the  garden.  And  one  reason  why  pleasure-making  has 
been  so  bad  to  the  maker  and  to  the  recipient,  is,  that  it  has  been 
making  pleasure  almost  wholly  out  of  the  lower  materials  of  man's 
life  and  nature. 

What  is  the  true  doctrine,  then,  in  full?  Eoery  one  of  us  should 
please  his  neighbor^  for  his  good.,  to  edification.  That  is  not  tautol- 
ogy. You  are  to  please  every  man  for  his  good,  and  to  so  do  it  that 
tlie  pleasure  sluill  be  conferred  in  a  way  to  benefit,  and  not  weaken, 
a  man.  You  have  no  riglit,  for  the  sake  of  making  a  man  happier  for 
tlie  moment,  to  make  him  worse  permanently.  You  have  no  right 
to  lower  his  moral  tone,  and  destroy  his  delicacy,  and  tame  liim 
down  from  heroism.  You  have  no'right  to  make  a  manless  capable 
as  a  spiritual  being,  for  the  sake  of  making  him  temporarily  happy, 
and  still  less  for  the  sake  of  making  yourselves  an  interest  in  him. 
You  are  to  please  every  man  ;  but  you  are  to  do  it  for  his  good.  It 
must  be  the  man's  good,  and  not  your  own,  that  you  constantly 
keep  in  mind.  It  must  become  a  working  instinct  in  j'ou.  Bene- 
volence and  conscience  must  in  you  have  been  so  wrought 
together  into  permanency,  that  when  you  approach  men  to  please 
them,  it  shall  be  invariably  the  instinct  of  your  true  manhood  to 
please  the  upper  part  of  their  nature,  not  the  lower  part.  You  have 
no  right  to  tamper  with  tliat  which  the  devil  lakes  care  of.  A  man 
might  please  to  good,  and  yet  it  might  be  merely  temporary  good, 
or  glances,  glimpses,  impulses  of  good.  Therefore  the  idea  is  carried 
out  and  perfectly  developed  when  the  apostle  says,  "  You  are  bound, 
every  one  of  you,  to  please  your  neiglibor  ;  but  you  are  bound  to 
please  him  for  his  good,  and  in  that  part  of  him  which  is  good ;  and, 
more  than  that,  to  his  edificatioli."  It  is  not  to  be  tickling  hira  in 
things  that  are  good :  it  is  to  be  pleasing  him  in  things  that  are  good 
in  such  a  way  that  they  shall  solidify.  Your  influence  on  him  shall 
build  him  up,  and  make  liim  better.  It  is  a  shame  for  one  man  to 
live  with  anotlier  man,  and  tliat  other  man  not  be  able  to  bear  testi- 
mony that  lie  is  better  for  it.  It  is  a  part  of  your  Christian  duty  to 
carry  yourself,  not  only  so  as  to  make  men  happy,  but  so  as  to  make 
them  happy  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them  better.  That  is  true 
Christianity.  That  is  true  ministerial  work.  Every  man  is  ordained 
to  be  a  minister  to  those  that  he  lives  among,  and  to  preacli,  not  in 
the  sense  of  exhortation,  but  in  the  sense  of  a  living  example,  so  that 
those  around  about  him  are  happy,  and  so  that  they  feel  that  the 


220       TEE   RIGHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAJ 

gladness  produced  in  them  by  his  presence  is  a  ghidness  which 
works,  not  downward,  but  upward;  that  it  cleans  them,  purifies 
them,  ennobles  them,  and  makes  more  of  manhood  in  them  than  they 
would  be  able  to  make  in  themselves. 

Here  is  the  royal  career  that  every  man  is  to  run.  He  is  so  to  carry 
his  thouo-ht  power,  his  spirit  power,  and  his  social  power,  that  those 
who  are  around  about  him  shall  be  drawn  to  him  by  the  sweet  light 
of  cheerful  pleasure  that  he  continually  emits.  But  it  shall  be  a 
pleasure  that  by  and  by  shall  produce  the  conviction  that  they  are 
not  only  happier  than  they  were  without  him,  but  better  than  they 
were  without  him.     That  which  is  good  is  to  be  touched  in  them. 

There  are  some  natures  that  have  the  power  of  finding  out  what- 
ever is  bad  in  us.  There  are  some  natures  that,  if  possible,  will  stir 
up  our  temper,  if  we  are  infirm  there.  They  will  irritate  us.  They 
will  rasp  us.  There  are  some  natures  that  know  how,  if  possible, 
to  stir  up  avarice  in  us.     They  will  touch  it,  if  it  cau  be  touched. 

You  may  take  a  lily  and  draw  it  through  the  sand,  and  it  comes 
out  clean.  Nothing  holds  to  it.  You  may  take  a  magnet,  and 
draw  it  through,  and  out  come  the  iron  filings  with  it.  The  magnet 
knows  and  catches  that  which  is  germane  to  it — that  which  is  sus- 
ceptible to  its  attraction.  There  are  some  natures  that  are  like  mag- 
nets, and  that  touch  lust  in  you.  You  do  not  know  Avhat  it  is  that 
affects  you.  You  feel  unwashed  after  they  are  gone.  There  has 
been  nothing  said,  and  there  has  nothing  been  exactly  done.  It  is 
that  subtle  magnetic  power  which  feeling  has  on  feeling.  If  on  one 
instrument  in  a  room  you  sound  a  given  chord,  every  other  instru- 
ment in  that  room  has  a  tendency  to  sound  its  octave.  If  you  go 
amono-  men  of  strong  natures,  there  is  a  certain  vibration  in  them  of 
a  feeling  which  is  strong  in  you.  Wlien  you  have  been  with  some 
persons,  you  feel  finer,  you  feel  lifted  up.  And  yet  they  have  not 
exhorted  you.  There  has  been  no  magisterial  instruction  whatever 
given  to  you.  You  have  drunk  the  wine  of  being,  and  by  it  you  are 
lifted  up  and  strengthened.  ♦ 

It  is  the  ideal  of  Christian  life  for  a  man  so  to  develop  every  part 
of  his  nature — intellectual,  social,  moral,  and  spiritual — that  wher- 
ever he  carries  himself,  all  men  shall  feel  the  radiation  of  the  genial, 
pleasurable  warmth  of  his  being,  and  he  shall  feel  that  he  takes  on 
a  pleasurable  excitement,  too,  in  the  higher  faculties.  And  then  it 
is  a  prolonged  work,  when  it  is  done  by  character  upon  character,  or 
by  example  on  example. 

Let  every  one  ofusjylease  his  neighhor  for  good  to  his  edification. 
Write  that  on  the  wall  of  your  sitting-room.  Write  it,  that  parents 
may  know  how  to  take  care  of  their  children.  Write  it  in  your 
counting-room,  that  you  may  know  how  to  take  care  of  your  em- 


OF  OlVmO   PLEASURE.  221 

ployees,  and  those  tbat  are  dependent  upon  you.  Write  it  on  the 
forge,  and  on  the  barn,  and  in  the  forecastle.  Write  it  everywhere. 
Let  every  one  of  us  please  his  neighbor  for  good  to  edification — to  per- 
manent buikling  up  into  character.  There  is  the  ideal  of  Christian 
influence  and  Christian  example. 

Consider  what  a  range  of  keys  is  opened  to  our  touch.  There 
are  pleasures  of  reason.  We  are  not  left  to  study  how  we  can  please 
men.  One  would  think,  rather,  that  the  study  would  be  how  not  to, 
so  many  are  the  opportunities,  and  so  easy  and  facile  are  the  meth- 
ods. There  are  more  pleasures  of  reason  than  men  are  accustomed 
to  think,  since  they  seldom  stop  to  analyze  and  to  determine.  And 
yet  there  is  no  pleasure  greater  than  that  of  the  birth  of  an  idea. 
And  the  lower  you  go,  the  more  exhilaration  does  it  seem  to  pro- 
duce. Take  the  plainest  unlettered  man  ;  sit  down  with  him  at  his 
nooning ;  talk  with  him  of  his  own  affairs  ;  talk  not  of  things  in  your 
sphere;  "condescend  to  men  of  low  estate  "  in  your  thoughts  and 
feelings,  and  talk  with  him  about  his  business  ;  and,  if  you  are  in- 
formed better  than  he,  seek  to  develop,  out  of  something  that  he  is 
accustomed  to  look  upon,  or  think  about,  or  work  in,  every  day, 
some  principle,  some  philosophical  process.  Put  him  in  possession  ■ 
of  it,  so  that  it  really  is  his,  and  see  how  you  have  struck  a  chord 
far  up  above  the  animal  of  his  life ;  and  see  what  pleasure  there  is 
in  it. 

Why,  there  be  men  who  so  seldom  have  this  pleasure  that  when 
ihey  get  an  idea  they  never  can  be  done  with  it.  Tliey  ride  it. 
Men  call  it,  at  last,  a  hobby.  But  you  forget  that  there  is  a  testi- 
mony here  to  the  pleasure  which  a  man  gets  in  a  pure  idea.  Society 
is  full  of  uncultivated  persons  that  have,  in  some  accidental  way, 
got  hold  of  a  theory,  a  notion,  a  principle.  They  do  not  know  all 
its  fellows.  They  have  not  the  modesty  of  knowing.  Each  man 
has  his  notion.  Sometimes  it  is  finance ;  soinetimes  it  is  physical 
economy;  sometimes  it  is  the  reforming  of  society — a  new  plan  for 
changing  it.  There  have  been  more  plans,  almost,  for  the  recon- 
struction of  society  than  there  have  been  heads  born  into  society. 
All  uneducated  and  naturally  intellectual  natures  have  an  idea,  and 
they  think  more  of  it  than  they  do  of  their  work ;  more  than  they  do 
of  their  bread.  That  is  their  Sunday  idea.  It  is  their  sanctuar)^. 
They  retreat  into  it.  They  like  to  talk  about  it,  and  are  flattered  if 
you  speak  of  it.  They  go  and  preach  about  it.  Sometimes  they  are 
combative,  and  become  reformers  on  the  strength  of  that  idea.  The 
reformer  is  generally  a  man  tliat  has  a  partial  truth,  and  is  disposed 
to  fight  with  it.  You  find  men  of  single  ideas  all  through  society. 
Nevertheless,  they  are  men  that  have  ideas ;  and  this  very  crusade 
which  they  make  is  the  witness  which  they  have  in  the  commerce 


222  TUE  BIGHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAT 

» 

of  ideas.     And  the  fault  is,  not  that  they  have  this  idea,  and  are  rid- 
ing it  to  death  :  it  is  that  they  have  not  more  ideas. 

When  a  physician  has  a  little  practice,  he  goes  on  foot ;  when  he 
has  a  little  more,  he  buys  a  horse  ;  when  he  has  still  more,  he  gets 
two  hoi'ses  ;  but  when  he  has  a  large  practice,  he  must  have  three 
horses ;  and  wheji  he  has  an  excessively  large  practice,  he  gets  four, 
five,  six,  or  eight  horses.  And  the  larger  the  number  of  horses  that 
he  has  in  his  stable,  the  less  is  he  obliged  to  ride  each  one.  And  so  it 
is  with  ideas.  If  a  man  has  but  very  few  ideas,  he  rides  one  ;  if  he 
,has  more,  he  rides  two. .  And  the  larger  his  stable  is,  the  more  ideas 
he  has.  And  the  consequence  is,  he  rides  each  one  only  a  proportional 
part  of  the  time. 

There  is  a  time  when  this  is  distinctly  developed  in  children. 
No  person  has  been  an  efficacious  teacher  who  has  not  watched 
for  the  "  birth  of  genius,"  as  some  call  it.  You  might  call  it  the  birth 
of  thought  /  for  all  children,  before  learning,  exercise  the  intellect. 
The  child  is  put  to  a  task  which  he  drudges  out,  and  overcomes,  he 
does  not  know  how.  He  is  dragged  into  it,  and  dragged  through  it. 
But  there  comes  a  time  when  almost  every  3'oung,  and  generous,  and 
•  well-balanced  mind  makes  a  lunge  for  victory  at  a  problem  or  some 
task,  which  he  conquers ;  and  he  feels  that  he  is  going  on  from  vic- 
tory to  victory.  There  is  elation  ;  there  is  exhilaration  ;  there  is  a 
sense  of  manhood  born  in  him.  He  from  that  moment  walks  home 
with  a  head  higher  and  with  a  step  more  elastic  ;  and  he  feels,  "  I  can 
learn  any  thing  ;  I  will  learn  any  thing."  Before,  he  drudged,  and 
read  his  book,  and  could  not  learn  his  lesson.  He  wanted  to  have 
the  boy  next  to  him  tell  him  the  answers  to  questions ;  or  he  read 
them  out  of  the  book.  He  could  not  get  along  ;  he  failed  in  his  reci- 
tations ;  and  he  got  down  at  the  bottom  among  the  dunces.  But  by 
and  by  the  blessed  hour  comes,  and  he  has  had  a  regeneration  of  the 
understanding ;  he  has  had  that  fiery  moment  in  which  he  has  felt 
that  there  was  that  in  him  which  was  competent  to  grapple  with 
ideas,  and  to  make  them  his  own.  And  see  now  how  the  child  is 
changed.  See  Jiow  from  that  moment  ambition  seizes  him.  See  him 
go  up,  step  by  step,  in  the  class.  See  how  he  scorns  to  be  told,  and 
scorns  to  recite  his  lesson  out  of  the  book.  He  is  disappointed,  now, 
if  he  is  not  asked.  Before  that,  he  w^anted  to  be  passed  by  when  the 
teacher  Avent  round  with  questions  in  the  examination.  It  is  a 
blessed  hour  when  the  young  man  learns  the  pleasure  of  thinking — 
the  pleasure  of  overcoming  by  the.  intellect  the  various  truths  which 
God  has  set  so  liberally  abroad  in  the  world. 

Now,  there  is  this  in  every  body.  Persons  may  not  be  able  to  find 
It  out,  but  you  can  find  it  out  for  them.  And  therefore,  they  who 
know  this  should  be  active  among  the  young,   among  their  com- 


OF  GIVING   PLEASURE.  223 

panions,  and  should  be  striving  to  cast  out  lines  of  thought  that  shall 
be  perpetually  waking  up  in  those  round  about  them  the  pleasures 
of  the  understanding.  We  are  commanded  to  sing  with  the  under- 
standing ;  and  yet,  if  we  did,  four  hundred  and  ninety-five  out  of  five 
hundred  pieces  of  music  that  are  published  for  singing  would  have 
to  go  to  the  dirt.  I  will  defy  any  body  to  sing  with  the  understand- 
ing the  music  that  is  trashily  printed  and  trashily  performed,  whether 
it  be  inarticulate,  on  stringed  instruments,  or  whether  it  be  vocalized 
to  words.  Music  has  a  relation  not  simply  to  sensuous  pleasure,  which 
is  the  lowest  kind  of  pleasure,  but  to  imaginative  pleasure,  and  to* 
pleasure  of  the  imderstanding  as  well,  which  it  rises  up  round  about 
as  the  atmosphere  rises  round  about  the  pine-trees  and  the  oak- 
trees  on  the  mountain-side,  washing  them  clean,  and  making  them 
stand  out  in  majesty  and  beauty.  Music  cleanses  the  understanding, 
inspires  it,  and  lifts  it  into  a  realm  which  it  would  not  reach  if  it  were 
left  to  itself. 

And  that  which  music  has  power  to  do  to  the  understanding,  wit 
also  has  power  to  do ;  and  so  has  fancy ;  and  so  have  the  feelings. 
Men  talk  about  ptire  reason.  Pure  reason  is  of  necessity  applied  to 
abstractions  and  to  mere  matter ;  but  the  vast  realm  and  common- 
wealth of  truth  concerns  feelings  ;  and  the  truths  of  love,  purity, 
patriotism,  dignity,  aspiration,  faith,  hope  ;  all  great  truths  which  lie 
between  man  and  man,  and  which  connect  man  to  God ;  all  great 
truths  which  have  in  them  heroism  to  do  and  to  endure — these  are 
truths  which  are  of  the  very  nature  of  feeling ;  and  a  man  that  does 
not  have  feeling  can  not  have  power  with  those  truths.  It  is  in  this 
way  that  feeling  ministers  to  thought  and  to  reason.  And  in  this  way, 
by  the  use  of  imagination,  by  the  use  of  mirthfulness,  by  the  use  of 
humor,  by  the  use  of  gayety,  a  man  may  minister  to  the  understand- 
ing, and  also  to  the  moral  well-being  of  his  fellow-men. 

When  the  young  come  to  me,  gay  and  happy,  as  if  they  felt  that 
they  were  willing,  for  the  sake  of  not  being  lost  forever,  or  for 
the  sake  of  pleasing  God,  to,  cut  off  their  locks,  to  shear  off  their 
smiles,  and  to  look  hereafter  very  sober,  very  downcast,  and  not  any 
more  to  be  gay,  but  to  be  very  reserved,  to  be  silent,  I  say,  "  Go 
away  from  me!  I  do  not  want  to  hatch  crows."  Not  forme  are 
such  birds.  Birds  of  paradise  I  want.  I  want  canary-birds.  I 
want  larks.  I  want  singing  birds.  And  you  can  not  have  your  plum- 
age too  gay.  Is  it  your  conception  of  religious  duty,  that  you  are  to 
shear  off  that  which  God  took  sucli  infinite  pains  to  make,  and  to  re- 
create in  every  generation  of  men  ?  My  conception  of  religion  is  to 
let  every  faculty  effulge,  touched  with  celestial  fire.  Only  let  the 
lower  faculties  be  servants  below%  and  the  higher  faculties  be  masters 


224  THE  RIGHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAT 

above,  and  then  let  these  higher  faculties  have  power  to  flash  fullness 
and  continuity. 

If,  therefore,  you  come  saying,  "  Must  I,  in  order  to  become  a 
Christian,  give  up  art  ?"  I  reply  that  God  made  art ;  and  if  he  has 
inspired  you  with  the  power  of  wielding  it,  it  is  your  ministration 
of  art  to  purify,  to  refine,  to  ennoble,  to  please,  to  cheer  men.  "  But 
I  am  a  singer,"  says  another.  Well,  then,  both  in  making  poetry,  in 
making  songs,  and  in  singing  them,  God  has  given  you  ordination. 
And  in  this,  I  say  to  you,  "Let  every  man,  by  his  peculiar  gifts, 
•please  his  neighbor  for  his  good."  Woe  be  to  that  man  who  writes 
a  song  in  which  sweetness  of  number,  and  saliency  of  imagination, 
and  exquisiteness  of  figure  are  employed  to  make  lust  hotter,  and 
gluttony  and  drunkenness  more  attractive. 

Woe  be  to  the  man  that  puts  angel  wings  on  devil's  qualities. 
Blessed  be  that  man  who  knows  how,  in  sacred  song  and  in  sweet 
poetry,  to  lift  up  homely  cares,  and  take  necessary  duties  out  of  their 
drudgery,  and  clothe  them  with  these  higher  pinions  and  attributes, 
and  make  them  fly  singing  through  the  air  above  the  dust  and  din 
below.  Blessed  is  the  man  who  knows  how  to  take  these  gifts  and 
make  mankind  happier  by  them.  But  what  shall  Avit  do?  What 
shall  humor  do  ?  Please  your  neighbor  not  by  douhle-entendre  / 
not  by  applying  bad  passions  to  salaciousness.  Woe  be  to  the  man 
who  can  not  go  by  the  pellucid  stream  without  j^utting  his  foot  in  to 
stir  the  mud  from  the  bottom.  Yet  there  be  men  who  never  seem  so 
happy  as  when  they  are  stirring  up  the  lower  feelings  and  pleasures 
that  nature  teaches  even  the  beasts  to  hide  from  observation.  If  you 
have  wit,  bliglit  not  men  with  it.  If  God  gave  you  humor,  see  to  it 
that  by  your  humor  you  do  not  lead  men  to  damnation  and  utter  de- 
struction. If  God  gave  you  gayety  and  cheer  of  spirits,  lift  up  the 
careworn  by  it.  Wherever  you  go,  shine  and  sing.  In  every  house- 
hold, there  is  drudgery.  In  every  household,  there  is  sorrow.  In 
every  household,  there  is  low-thoughted  evil.  If  you  come  as  a  prince, 
with  a  cheerful,  buoyant  nature,  in  the^name  of  God  do  not  lay  aside 
those  royal  robes  of  yours.  Let  humor  bedew  duty.  Let  it  flash 
across  care.  Let  gayety  take  charge  of  dullness.  So  employ  these 
qualities  that  they  sliall  be  to  life  what  carbonic  acid  is  to  wine,  mak- 
ing it  foam  and  sj^arkle. 

Why,  do  you  suppose  that  Christianity  begins  in  the  Westrain 
ster  Catechism,  and  ends  there  ?  Do  you  suppose  it  leaps  from  philo- 
sophy into  philosophy,  and  disappears  ?  I  tell  you,  Christianity 
means  the  totality  of  man,  developed  under  the  inspiration  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.  It  is  only  another  word  for  manhood,  carried  to  its 
highest  pitch. 

There  is  a  correlative  duty  connected  with  this — namely,  as  we  are 


OF  GIVING   PLEASURE.  225 

to  employ  pleasure  so  that  it  shall  instruct  men,  we  are  also  to  employ 
instruction  so  that  it  shall  please  men.  Both  things  are  true.  Al- 
though it  is  not  stated  affirmatively,  it  is  implied,  it  is  logically 
inferable,  from  the  command  of  the  apostle.  I  do  not  undertake  to 
say  that  we  are  never  either  to  do  or  to  say  any  thing  which  is  de- 
void of  pleasure.  A  part  of  the  lesson  which  we  have  to  learn  in 
life  is  bearing  pain.  He  can  never  be  of  the  highest  type  of  manhood 
who  seeks  to  avoid  trouble — who  lays  his  plans  so  as  to  flank  pain. 
He  that  takes  the  line  of  duty,  and  persists  in  that,  and  when  pain 
must  be  felt,  bears  it,  and  knows  how  to  bear  it,  is  the  true  man.  I 
would  not  object  to  a  man's  stopping  under  an  oak-tree  during  a 
thunder-storm  ;  but  for  a  man  to  build  a  house  half-way  between  here 
and  California,  and  go  into  it,  and  stay  there,  for  fear  that  if  he  went 
out  he  would  get  wet,  would  be  ridiculous.  A  true  traveler  knows 
how  to  go  in  storms  as  well  as  in  sunshine,  though  the  sunshine  is 
pleasanter. 

I  would  not  teach  upon  the  theory  that  every  thing  must  be  made 
pleasant  before  the  child  is  bound  to  take  it ;  nevertheless,  the  gene- 
ral rule  is  this,  that  instruction,  throughout  life,  should  be  made 
pleasant.  At  any  rate,  it  should  not  be  made  unnecessarily  unplea- 
sant. This  is  one  reason  why  I  hold  that  much  of  the  instruction  of 
the  household  is  unscriptural.  Show  me,  if  you  can,  in  any  house- 
hold, any  such  mode  of  instruction  as  I  was  subjected  to  when  I  was 
a  child.  The  most  absolute  abstract  views  of  doctrine  were  present- 
ed to  me.  If  I  go  to  the  Bible,  I  have  the  parables  of  Christ,  the  inimi- 
table histories  of  Joseph  and  his  brethren,  the  sweet  idyl  of  Ruth, 
and  the  beautiful  songs  of  David.  All  the  way  through  the  histori- 
cal narratives,  I  have  just  that  which  is  adapted  to  teach  the  unin- 
structed  mind  of  the  child. 

I  do  not  say  that  these  abstractions,  and  catechisms,  and  creeds 
are  useless.  To  adult  minds,  they  ai-e  not.  The  adult  mind  runs 
into  them  necessarily.  But  to  shut  up  a  child  on  Sunday,  and  to  cram 
him  with  catechism,  does  not  do  liim  any  good  now,  though  it  "  may 
by  and  by." 

Suppose  a  child  was  on  an  excursion,  and  its  good  mother  should 
be  seen  cramming  into  a  large  trunk  cloth  and  needles  and  silk  in 
superabundance  ?  And  suppose,  on  being  asked  Avhy  she  did  it,  she 
sliould  say,  "  I  am  going  with  my  child  on  a  picnic  excursion  ?" 
And  suppose,  on  being  still  further  asked  if  she  was  not  putting  her- 
self to  unnecessary  trouble,  she  should  say,  "  By  and  by  the  child 
may  find  some  use  for  some  of  these  rolls  of  cloth,  and  may  be  glad 
to  get  at  them."  It  is  true  -that  such  a  contingency  may  oocur;  but 
would  you  proceed  so  in  such  a  case  ?  Men  rightly  say,  "  Let  the  child 
learn   the  catechism  by  and  by.     Why  not  wait  till  it  is  competent 


226  TEE  RIGHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAY 

to  understaQd  it  ?"  And  I  think  that  to  force  childhood  to  associate 
religion  with  such  dry  morsels  is  to  violate  the  spirit,  not  only  of  the 
New  Testament,  but  of  common  sense  as  well.  I  know  one  thing,  that 
if  I  am  "  lax  and  latitudinarian,"  the  Sunday  catechism  is  to  blame 
for  a  part  of  it.  The  dinners  that  I  have  lost  because  I  could  not  go 
through  "  sanctification,"  and  "justification,"  and  "adoption,"  and 
all  such  questions,  lie  heavily  on  my  memory  !  I  do  not  know  that 
they  have  brought  forth  any  blossoms.  I  have  a  kind  of  grudge 
ao-ainst  many  of  those  truths  that  I  was  taught  in  my  childhood ;  and 
I  am  not  conscious  that  they  have  waked  up  a  particle  of  faith  in  me. 
My  good  old  aunt  in  heaven — ^I  wonder  what  she  is  doing.  I  take  it 
that  she  now  sits  beauteous,  clothed  in  white,  that  round  about  her  sit 
chanting  cherub  children,  and.  that  she  is  opening  to  them  from  her 
larger  range,  sweet  stories,  every  one  fraught  with  thought,  and  taste, 
and  feeling,  and  lifting  them  up  to  a  higher  plane.  One  Sunday 
afternoon  with  my  aunt  Esther  did  me  more  good  than  forty  Sundays 
in  church  with  my  father.  He  thundered  over  my  head,  and  she 
sweetly  instructed  me  down  in  my  heart.  The  promise  that  she 
would  read  Joseph's  history  to  me  on  Sunday  was  enough  to  draw 
a  silver  thread  of  obedience  through  the  entire  week  ;  and  if  I  was 
tempted  to  break  ray  promise,  I  said,  "  No  ;  Aunt  Esther  is  going  to 
read  on  Sunday ;"  and  I  would  do,  or  I  would  not  do,  all  through 
the  week,  for  the  sake  of  getting  that  sweet  instruction  on  Sunday. 

And  to  parents  I  say.  Truth  is  graded.  Some  parts  of  God's  truth 
are  for  childhood,  some  parts  are  for  the  nascent  intellectual  period, 
and  some  parts  are  for  later  spiritual  developments.  Do  not  take  the 
last  things  first.  Do  not  take  the  latest  processes  of  philosophy,  and 
brino-  them  prematurely  to  the  understanding.  In  teaching  truth  to 
your  children,  you  are  to  avoid  tiring  them. 

You  are  also  to  avoid  unpleasant  association.  Make  every 
thing  that  stands  connected  with  religion  just  as  pleasant  as  it  can  be. 
Do  you  know  what  the  power  of  association  is  ?  Did  you  ever  study 
that  matter?  Do  you  know  how  we  have  redeemed  many  things 
in  human  experience  from  vulgarity,  and  made  them  as  redolent  as 
the  gate  of  heaven  ?  For  instance,  do  you  know  of  any  one  thing 
that  is  so  gross  as  eating?  When  you  consider  that  a  man  throws 
into  that  hole  which  we  call  the  mouth,  chunk  after  chunk  and  grinds 
it,  and  disposes  of  it,  is  there  any  thing  that  is  more  purely  an  animal 
operation  ?  And  yet,  is  there  any  thing  more  refined  or  fuller  of  sweet 
suggestion  than  the  table  ?  Do  we  not  use  that  Avord  table  to  signify 
the  blessings  of  the  household  ?  We  have  so  surrounded  the  table,  by 
conversation,  and  afiection,  and  the  higher  offices  of  life,  that  we  for- 
get that  gross  fact  around  which  they  all  of  them  cohere.  These  are 
the  blossoms,  and  that  is  the  root  underground,  as  it  were.     Do  you 


OF    OIVmQ   PLEASURE.  227 

consider  that  this  is  a  single  ilhistration  of  a  principle  as  broad  as  life, 
and  that,  on  the  one  hand,  by  association  you  can  make  the  highest  and 
noblest  things  most  mean  and  beggarly ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
can  surround  the  meanest  and  most  beggarly  things  with  the  noblest 
and  highest  associations? 

Which  is  the  most  beauteous  house  in  your  village  ?  That  rich 
man's  house  standing  in  the  park,  wide  built,  with  wings  towering 
far  up  to  heaven?  Imagination  always  makes  it  seem  admirable  to 
you;  but  oh  !  you  would  go  by  that  house  a  thousand  times,  and  not 
experience  one  single  heart-pang.  But  there  is  that  old  rusty  brown 
house,  that  was  once  red,  down  under  the  hill,  with  only  one  floor, 
and  three  rooms,  and  an  attic  that  you  go  up  into  by  a  ladder;  and. 
Avhen  you  see  that,  it  brings  tears  to  your  eyes. 

Are  we  set  to  teach  God's  truth  to  the  young  that  it  may  please 
them;  or  shall  we  take  these  divinest  tiutlis — truths  of  love,  of  victory, 
of  hope,  of  faith,  of  manhood,  of  immortality  and  glory,  of  triumph  over 
sorrow,  and  death,  and  the  grave — and  so  teach  them  to  our  children 
that  their  prevailing  impression  respecting  them  is,  that,  next  to 
being  damned,  it  is  miserable  to  be  a  Christian?  A  great  many  feel 
that  they  would  rather  be  born  again  than  be  lost  forever ;  but  only 
about  so.  And  what  a  testimony  that  is  to  our  understanding  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Bible — that  singing  book  ;  that  healthy  book;  that  book 
which  has  not  a  morbid  spot  in  it  from  beginning  to  end ;  that  book 
which  is  full  of  choirs,  full  of  angel  voices,  full  of  inspiration,  full  of 
nobleness  and  grandeur,  all  the  way  through — what  a  testimony  it 
is  to  our  understanlling  of  the  spirit  of  that  book,  that  we  make  it  a 
battle-field,  a  Gettysburg,  and  tramp  down  flowers  and  harvests  in 
our  rude  controvei'sies  sect  with  sect.  All  !  there  is  a  fountain  of  heal- 
ing, they  tell  me,  at  Gettysburg.  Blood-soaked  it  has  been.  And- 
there  is  many  a  Gettysburg  where  there  is  many  a  theological  wound, 
and  many  a  bitter  tear.  But  there  is  also  the  healing  fountain  of  the 
word. of  God.  And  I  say  that  it  is  a  correlative  duty  to  please  men 
so  as  to  instruct  them,  and  to  instruct  men  so  as  to  please  them  if  pos- 
sible. Not  that  you  are  always  to  avoid  tasks,  and  yokes,  and  crosses  ; 
but  the  predominant  tendency,  the  genius, of  inspiration,  should  be 
to  make  instruction  pleasant — to  make  truth  seem  as  pleasant  to  men 
as  it  really  is  in  its  own  self. 

Passing  by  much,  I  make  a  few  applications,  and  close. 

I  think  you  can  now  discriminate  very  clearly  between  the  two 
classes  of  preachers  that  abound.  There  is  a  class  in  the  community 
who  preach  to  please.  That  is  all  they  preach  for.  There  is  a  class 
in  the  community  who  preach  to  instruct.  There  is  a  class  in  the  com- 
munity who  preach  that  they  may  instruct.  They  grow  better  and 
better  from  the  first,  wliich  is  the  worst  of  all.     A  man  that  preaches 


228  TEE  ilIGHT  AND    THE    WRONG    WAY 

to  please  is  a  poor  fellow.  He  may  f;ire  well  in  this  world,  but  I  think 
he  is  drawing  on  his  capital,  and  will  not  have  much  in  the  other ! 
I  do  not  know  of  any  thing  that  seems  more  degrading.  If  a -man 
wants  to  indulge  in  levities,  or  fantasies,  or  imaginations,  let  him  do 
it;  I  am  not  beset  with  superstitions.  But  still,.if  a  child  would  play 
mumblety-peg,  I  would  not  advise  him  to  go  into  the  graveyard  and 
play  on  his  father's  and  mother's  graves  !  There  are  proprieties  and 
adaptations;  and  if  a  man  is  called  merely  to  please,  if  he  is  to  be  a 
pleasure-monger,  even  of  ideas,  let  him  take  the  lecture-room,  or  the 
theatre ;  let  him  go  where  pleasure  is  the  normaL  end.  But  to  take 
the  Church,  to  take  the  crucified  Saviour,  to  take  the  everlasting  issues 
of  human  life,  and  in  the  midst  of  these  tremendous  verities  think  of 
nothing  but  soft  sentences,  and  sweet  figures,  and  sentimental  graces, 
and  preaching  these  short  sermons  that  please  every  body,  and  particu- 
larly the  closing  passages  of  them — this  I  do  not  think  is  salutary.  But 
if  there  is  any  case  i^i  which  it  is  allowable,  it  is  the  case  of  men  that 
preach  for  the  sake  of  pleasing,  and  for  that  only. 

But  they  are  said  to  be  refined.  Yes,  they  are  refined.  Oh  !  but 
they  are  said  to  be  eloquent.  Yes,  they  are  eloquent.  Oh  !  but  they 
are  said  to  be  attractive.  But  when  they  stand  on  that  awful,  final 
day,  between  the  living  and  the  dead,  before  God  Almighty's  judg- 
ment, and  all  God's  angels  are  gathered  together,  and  there  is  nothing 
to  stand  between  them  and  damnation  except  elegancy,  and  refine- 
ment, and  pleasant  voices,  and  words,  and  gestures — in  that  hour, 
will  it  seem  to  them  to  have  been  worth  their  while  to  have  bought 
their  destruction  at  such  a  price  ? 

Their  bad  example,  with  other  causes,  drives  a  great  many  per- 
sons to  the  other  extreme.  They  preach  to  instruct,  and  do  not  care 
whether  men  like  it  or  not.  Sometimes  they  are  better  pleased  when 
men  do  not  like  it  than  when  they  do.  There  are  a  great  many  per- 
sons who  s-eem  to 'think  that  the  doctrine  of  depravity  is  to  make 
men  depraved,  and  that  they  do  not  preach  effectually  unless,  they 
develop  depravity  in  the  congregation.  If  they  preach  so  as  to  offend 
men's  tastes  ;  if  their  preaching  is  such  as  to  make  men's  natural 
affections  rebound  and  rebel  against  it,  they  say,  "  Ah  !  we  have 
touched  the  quick.  The  natural  heart  does  not  love  the  things  of  the 
spirit.  It  is  not  reconciled  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be." 
And  when  a  man  preaches  so  as  to  bring  out  the  law  of  God  in  living 
colors,  the  sign  that  he  is  faithful,  they  think,  is,  that  they  are  mad  who 
listen.  And  there  is  now  and  then  a  preacher  who  spends  his  time,  ap- 
parently, in  using  the  most  tremendous  doctrines  in  the  most  offensive 
ways,  and  who,  notwithstanding,  preaches  to  the  congregation  through 
his  natural  term.  The  young  leave  him.  All  the  soft-meated  people 
leave  him.     The  tough,  the  sinewy,  the  much-enduring,  all  stay, 


OF  GIVING    PLEASURE.  229 

until  "by  and  by  the  congregation  is  all  made  up  of  veteran^s.  And  at 
last  the  man  dies.  An  excellent  man  he  was,  it  may  be ;  but,  mis- 
guided, ignorant  of  human  nature,  ignoi-ant  of  the  best  mode  of 
performing  religious  duty,  he  has  taken  that  trutli  which  God  meant 
should  walk  before  men  as  a  queen  of  light,  clad  in  beauteous  gar- 
ments, and  should  go  singing  as  well  as  threatening,  persuading  as 
well  as  commanding,  and  has  preached  it  so  that  it  walked  before 
men  making  them  feel  that  truth  was  skin  and  bones.  A  gaunt, 
skeleton  truth  he  preached.  And  after  he  dies,  some  young  man 
comes  and  takes  his  place.  Then  the  young  people  come  back, 
and  men  that  have  hearts,  and  Avant  to  have  them  fed,  begin  to 
return.  Pesently,  under  his  preaching,  a  great  and  glorious  re- 
vival of  religion  breaks  out,  and  the  whole  congregation  begin  to  be 
moved  and  swayed  by  the  truth ;  and  the  good  old  j^eople  wake  up, 
and  say,  "Ah !  the  seed  that  our  dear  father,  who  is  now  in  heaven, 
has  been  sowing  these  twenty  years,  has  at  last  begun  to  come  up." 

An  old  firmer  who  never  put  a  single  particle  of  manure  on  his 
farm,  but  who  has  planted  and  skinned,  and  planted  and  skinned, 
i;ntil  a  mullein  will  not  grow  on  his  farm,  at  last  dies.  Then  a  young 
man  comes  in,  and  begins  to  institute  a  rotation  of  crops,  and  uses 
fertilizers,  and  handles  ten-acre  after  ten-acre  in  a  real  generous  way. 
Up  begin  to  come  great  crops  of  grass,  and  potatoes,  and  corn;  and 
the  old  farmers  round  about  come  and  lean  on  the  fence  and  look 
over  upon  these  crops,  and  say, "  I  used  to  tell  Brother  Skinflint  that 
after  a  while  his  system  would  produce  its  fruit !"  Now,  is  this  young 
man  reaping  the  fruit  of  Avhat  that  old  man  did  ?  Is  it  not  true  that, 
another  system  having  been  introduced,  he  is  reaping  what  he  himself 
sowed  ? 

I  declare  that  the  truth  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  while  it  leads 
to  great  sorrows,  leads  to  sorrows  which  are  the  conflicts  of 
men's  higher  faculties.  So,  there  come  revolutionary  times,  when 
to  be  a  Christian  requires  a  man  to  sweat  drops  of  blood,  and  when 
heroism  obliges  men  to  stand  for  truth  and  for  principle.  Therefore,  in 
the  life  of  the  church  there  are  periods  of  darkness,  periods  of  Sinai. 
Yet,  in  and  of  itself,  the  nature  of  the  truth  is  beautiful,  is  sweet, 
is  attractive  ;  and  it  should,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  be  so  preached 
that  men  should  think  that  there  is  nothing  under  the  sun  and  stars 
so  beautiful  as  are  the  truths  of  Christianity.  And  while  we  are 
called  upon  to  please  every  one  his  neighbor  for  his  good  to  edifica- 
tion, we  are  also  called  upon  to  edify  every  one  his  neighbor  to 
pleasure.     It  is  a  poor  rule  that  does  not  work  both  ways. 

Out  of  this  subject  grows  the  logical  connection  (you  must  find  it 
out  for  yourselves,  for  I  can  not  stop  now  to  put  it  into  formulation) 
in  respect  to  friendship,  and  love,  and  society. 


230  THE  RIGHT  AND    THE  WRONG    WAT 

I  conceive  that  there  are  few  persous  who  know  either  the  plea- 
sures or  the  duties  that  belong  to  friendship  or  to  love.  Tliere  are 
very  few  j^ersons  that  are  courageous  enough,  brave  enough,  to  be  a 
friend.  If  to  be  a  friend  means  that  you  shall  sit  down  under  the 
boughs  of  your  friend,  as  one  in  summer  sits  down  under  the  boughs 
of  the  generous  apple-tree,  feeding  upon  the  fruit  that  Mis  from  its 
boughs,  taking  all  your  pleasure  from  the  tree,  and  adding  notliing 
to  it ;  if  friendship  is  selecting  persons  as  your  associates  for  the  sake 
of  getting  pleasure  and-profit  out  of  them,  why,  then  there  are  plenty 
of  friends,  and  there  is  plenty  of  friendship.  But  if  friendship  means 
pleasing  for  good,  to  up-building  or  edification;  if  the  relation  of 
true  friendship  is  such  that  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  take  more 
than  you  can  give  in  your  intercourse  one  with  another,  then  friends 
and  friendship  are  not  so  common.  If  your  idea  of  friendshij)  is  to 
be  happy  witliout  regard  to  the  happiness  of  others,  then  there  is  too 
much  friendship  in  this  world  already:  But  I  understand  friendship 
to  be  something  more  royal  than  this.  I  understand  it  to  be  the  con- 
gress of  two  natures  that  love  to  give.  And  as  it  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive,  as  the  recoil  of  generosity  is  musical,  the  two 
natures,  coming  together,  seek  to  serve  each  other,  to  honor  each 
other,  to  bear  one  another's  burdens,  to  enlighten  each  other,  to  sti- 
mulate each  other,  to  make  each  other  nobler.  And  if  that  is  friend- 
ship, how  little  there  is  of  it  in  the  world!  How  many  men  are  de- 
graded by  their  friendships. 

You  can  not  aiford  to  be  a  friend  to  any  one  who  leaves  slime  on 
you.  You  can  not  afford  to  be  the  friend  of  any  one  who  lowers  the 
tone  and  temper  of  your  conscience.  You  can  not  afford  to  be  a  friend 
to  any  man  who,  on  the  whole,  breathes  malaria  into  your  system. 
You  are  to  receive  from  any  man  who  is  worthy  to  be  your  friend 
instruction  and  elevation.  If  he  degrades  and  lowers  you,  as  you 
love  your  soul,  break  the  friendship  ;  for  it  is  foul,  pernicious,  deadly. 
And  on  the  other  liand,  no  man  can  afford  to  have  you  for  his  friend, 
if  the  average  result  of  the  action  of  your  mind  and  life  on  him  is  not 
to  make  him  a  better  man. 

But  put  it  liigher — put  it  in  the  realm  of  love.  Who  are  true 
lovers  ?  They  that  kindle  the  first  novel  fires  of  inexperienced  affec- 
tion— are  they  true  lovers?  Infants  they  are — mere  prattlers. 
Are  they  lovers  that  only  know  the  tides  of  passion  ?  Beasts  are 
mightier  lovers  than  they.  Woe  be  to  the  poverty  of  our  language, 
that  we  have  no  words  to  express  the  differences  in  the  realm  of  love, 
from  the  toi^most  angelic  nature  to  the  poorest  and  basest  nature. 
One  single  word  is  to  serve  various  uses,  and  imj^otent  paraplirases 
are  employed  to  eke  out  intermediate  meanings.  But  not  they  who 
have  the  gush  of  fancy,  and  still  less  they  that  have  the  wild  flush  of 


OF  GIVING   PLEASURE.  231 

passion,  are  true  lovers.  They  are  true  lovers  where  every  faculty 
in  one  finds  a  corresponding  faculty  in  the  other ;  where  the  under- 
standing and  the  moral  sense  of  one  are  enriched  by  the  understand- 
ing and  the  moral  sense  of  the  otlier ;  where  the  spiritual  affinities  of 
one  are  strengthened'  by  the  spiritual  affinities  of  the  other  ;  Avhere  the 
sweet  and  pure  social  affisctions  are  fed  and  pleased ;  where  they  so 
stand  togethei',  that  pride  in  one  says,  "  I  am  happy  in  the  other  ;" 
and  love  of  praise  says,  "I  am  perpetually  praised  in  the  other," 
They  are  lovers  whose  concordant,  concurrent  beings  are  like  two 
parts  of  music,  rising,  and  floating,  and  twining,  and  mingling  to 
make  one  harmonious  Avhole, 

Love  is  the  river  of  life  in  this  world.  Think  not  that  ye  know  it 
who  stand  at  the  little  tinkling  rill — the  first  small  fountain.  Not 
until  you  have  gone  through  the  rocky  gorges,  and  not  lost  the 
stream  ;  not  until  you  have  stood  at  the  mountain  passes  of  trouble 
and  conflict;  not  until  you  have  gone  through  the  meadow,  and  the 
stream  has  widened  and  deepened  until  fleets  could  ride  on  its  bosom ; 
not  until  beyond  the  meadow  you  have  come  to  the  unfathomable 
ocean,  and  i^oured  your  treasures  into  its  depths — not  until  then  can 
you  know  what  love  is.  It  is  something  grander  than  enters  into  the 
imaginations  of  unsubdued  men  that  yet  all  believe,  earthy  and  sen- 
suous. When  two  souls  come  together,  each  seeking  to  magnify  the 
other;  each,  in  a  subordinate  sense,  worshiping  the  other;  each  help- 
ing the  other ;  the  two  flying  together  so  that  each  wing-beat  of  the 
one  helps  each  wing-beat  of  the  other — when  two  souls  come  to- 
gether thus,  they  are  lovers.  They  who  unitedly  move  themselves 
away  from  grossness  and  from  earth,  toward  the  throne  crystalline, 
and  the  pavement  golden,  are  indeed  true  lovers. 

Father  and  mother,  do  you  love  each  other  so  ?  Brother  and  sis- 
ter, have  you  Christian  love  ?  Newly  come,  and  newly  found,  is  this 
your  ideal  of  love  ?  Is  it  some  faint,  hazy,  but  beauteous  dream  ?  Is 
it  some  romance  of  imagined  excellence?  True  love  can-ies  self- 
denial,  labor-pain  for  another.  True  love  pivots  on  honor  and  re- 
spect— both  self-respect  and  respect  for  another.  True  love  thinks ; 
true  love  feels ;  true  love  striVes ;  true  love  pleases ;  true  love  im- 
proves ;  true  love  creates  in  the  soul  of  the  one  loved  a  higher  life. 
And  so,  beginning  in  this  world,  and  loving  little  and  low,  men  rise 
up  through  intermediate  stages,  until  they  touch  the  higher  flights. 
Old  age  often  sees  the  flame  bui'ned  out;  but  the  coals  that  remain 
are  warmer  than  all  the  flames  were.  There  is  no  loving  like  that 
which  experience  has  taught,  when  that  experience  is  ministered  by 
the  instruction  and  wisdom  and  purification  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Let  love,  then,  minister  pleasure ;  but  let  pleasure  minister  profit. 
Please  one  another  for  good  unto  edification. 


232  .        THE  RIGHT  AND    THE  WROXQ    WAY 


PRAYER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON. 

We  bless  thee,  our  Father,  that  thou  hast  made  known  to  us  thine  existence  ; 
that  thOu  hast  made  known  to  \is  the  joyful  tidings  of  thy  relations  to  us,  and 
tty  feelings  ;  that  thou  hast  called  thyself  Father,  and  so  assured  to  us  all  the 
blessings  of  the  household  in  love.  We  rejoice  now  without  fear:  not  without 
regret  and  sorrow,  because  our  unworth  perpetually  chides  us.  We  are  perpetu- 
ally reminded  both  by  weakness  and  by  sin  of  our  unworthiness.  Yet  so  great  is 
thy  kindness  and  thy  love,  that  not  all  our  consdous  defect  can  keep  us  from  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost.  When  we  look  at  ourselves,  we  are  indeed  full  of  grief ;  but 
when  we  look  away  from  ourselves  and  toward  our  God,  we  are  full  of  joy,  we 
are  full  of  strength.  Certainty  of  the  future  does  not  lie  in  our  continuance,  but 
in  the  greatness  of  thy  watchful  care  ;  in  thy  faithful  mercies  ;  in  that  redeeming, 
love,  stronger  than  death,  by  which  we  have  been  gathered,  and  nourished,  and 
instructed,  and  disciplined,  and  built  up  into  the  holy  faith.  And  our  confidence 
is  in  thee.  In  thee,  0  God !  we  shall  be  steadfast.  In  thee  alone  are  we  safe. 
^That  time  we  wander  from  the  influence  of  thy  love,  what  time  we  forget  thee, 
we  are  subject  to  all  temptations.  Pride  destroys  us,  and  vanity  weakens  us,  and 
our  passions  take  possession  of  us.  Then  the  garden  of  the  Lord  is  indeed  given 
up  to  the  wild  boar  of  the  wilderness.  Then  indeed  are  all  fair  and  pleasant 
places  laid  waste.  But  thou,  0  God  !  dost  return  to  our  desolation,  as  the  summer 
sun  comes  to  the  wastes  of  \vinter.  When  thou  returdest,  all  things  forget  to 
mourn.  When  thou  comest,  all  things  grow  beauteous  and  fragrant.  We  re- 
joice in  that  wonderful  power  of  thy  light  which  gives  life,  and  with  life  joy — that 
makes  joy  a  prophet  of  greater  joys  yet  to  come. 

And  now  we  pray  that,  standing  between  the  earth  and  the  heaven,  the 
earthly  influences  that  are  seductive  and  ruinous  may  grow  less  and  less  potent 
with  us,  and  that  all  celestial  influences  that  lift  us  high  above  the  senses,  and 
higher  every  day,  may  prevail,  and  that  we  may  become  more  holy.  Grant  that 
the  beauty  of  holiness  may  be  otirs.  May  our  light  so, shine  that  it  shall  seem 
beautiful  to  men.  May  we  have  this  unconscious  power.  ^lay  we  be  like  thee. 
May  we  not  only  go  about  doing  good,  and  for  the  sake  of  doing  good,  but  may 
our  example,  all  unbeknown  to  ourselves,  lead  men  to  virttie  and  holiness. 
We  pray  that  thou  wilt  help  us  to  resist  easily  besetting  sins,  to  gain  victories 
over  thoughts,  and  fancies,  and  imaginations,  and  vagrant  desires,  and  strong 
feelings. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  the  passionate,  that  they  may  rule 
their  fiery  tempers  :  that  they  may  know  hqw,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  establish  his 
kingdom  in  meekness  and  gentleness  in  their  unrulable  natures.  We  beseech  of 
thee  that  thou  wilt  help  the  proud,  that  they  may  no  longer  have  the  selfishness 
that  pride  generates.  May  they  be  less  and  less  cold.  More  and  more  may  they 
sympathize  with  others,  and  not  with  themselves  alone.  May  their  pride  not  be 
broken,  but  converted,  and  made,  as  was  thine  ancient  servant  of  old,  to  serve 
the  churches.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  those  that  struggle 
with  all  the  fascinations  and  glittering  vanities  of  praise.  Grant  that  the  love  of 
it,  and  the  idolatry  of  it  may  cease.  And  may  it  be  in  their  hands  an  instrument 
of  beneficence,  a  means  of  making  others  happy,  and  interpreting  their  desires 
and  wishes. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  0  God !  that  thou  wilt  look  upon  all  that  are  fighting  the 


OF  GIVING   PLEASURE.  233 

battle  of  avarice ;  and  may  they  know  liow,  with  the  sword  of  the  Lord,  to  slay 
these  dragons.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  help  any  that  are  overmastered,  and  any 
that  are  being  cast  down  and  destroyed,  by  those  passione.  We  pray  that  thou 
wilt  work  mightily  for  the  relief  of  any  hearts  that  are  thus  delivered  into  bond- 
age. We  pray  that  tiiey  may  be  delivered  from  the  power  of  those  tempta- 
tions and  those  foul  compliances  and  sins  which  spring  from  these  fountains. 
More  and  more  may  men  turn  themselves  away  from  the  hateful  uess  and  wicked- 
ness of  selfishness.  More  and  more  may  they  behold  the  beauty  that  there  is  in 
true  benevolence  and  goodness.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  tliat 
every  one  of  thy  people  may  learn  how  to  adorn  the  doctrine  of  Christ  in  the  sta- 
tion where  they  are.  If  thou  hast  appointed  some  to  poverty,  may  they  accept 
poverty  as  if  it  were  a  flower  of  the  Lord  ;  and  may  they  hold  it  in  their  hand, 
not  as  if  it  sprung  from  the  ground,  or  came  from  men's  devices,  but  as  appointed 
of  God.  And  may  they  take  it  as  a  charter.  And  there  may  they  stand  to  adorn 
the  doctrine  of  God  in  their  poverty.  And  if  there  are  those  who  are  in  the  midst 
of  perplexities  and  cares,  may  they  learn  how  to  make  a  garden  of  this  rocky  soil, 
and  plant  therein  some  beauteous  thing  that  shall  glorify  the  name  of  their  dear 
Saviour.  May  they  not  seek  so  much  to  fly  away  from  their  cares  as  to  subdue 
them  and  overcome  them. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  !  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  all  that  are 
in  the  midst  of  sorrows  and  afflictions  the  appropriate  graces  of  the  ministrations 
of  thy  spirit.  And  may  they  know  how  to  have  a  song  in  the  night.  From  dark- 
ness may  there  come  forth  those  sweet  sounds  of  ecstasy  that  shall  surprise  men 
with  the  power  that  God  hath  to  subdue  sorrow  to  the  uses  of  his  dear  children. 
And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  those  luider  the  quick  pressure 
of  new  griefs,  though  they  bow  down  their  heads,  may  speedily  lift  them  up 
again.  We  behold,  when  the  storm  is  past,  how  many  things  are  laden  with  the 
rain,  and  can  not  straighten  themselves  up.  And  yet,  when  timely  winds  have 
blown  and  shaken  off"  the  moisture,  how  again  they  become  erect,  and  are  nour- 
ished by  that  which  beat  them  down.  So  may  it  be  with  every  one  whose  head 
droops  with  sorrows.  Now  lift  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  them,  and 
make  their  very  sorrows  go  to  the  root  and  give  them  sap,  in  whix;h  they  may 
grow  in  strength  and  beauty. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  strengthen  all  in  the  midst  of  the  duties  of 
life  who  are  performing  grave  and  weighty  offices  of  trust  and  responsibility. 

Grant  that  they  may  feel  that  in  their  vocations  they  are  serving  the  Lord. 
May  they  be  "  diligent  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit,"  in  their  service  of  the  Lord. 
We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  !  that  thou  wilt  teach  all  those  who  have 
strength  how  to  use  it  for  others  rather  than  for  themselves.  And  may  all  that 
have  refinement  and  graces  of  the  spirit  carry  these  illuminations  as  so  many 
lights,  to  show  other  men  the  way  of  virtue  and  truth.  As  when  thou  didst  go 
forth  men  came  to  thee  expecting  some  gift  of  body  or  soul,  so  may  it  be  with  us.- 
May  we  follow  Christ  thus,  and  attempt  to  be  benefactors  to  our  fellow-men. 
Grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  this  church  :  upon  all  the  families  that  are  gath- 
ered here  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath.  And  remember  any  that  are  with  us  but  not 
of  us — strangers  among  strangers.  Grant  that  the  blessing  of  our  Father  may 
rest  upon  them.  And  if  they  remember  the  altar  where  aforetime  they  have 
worshiped  ;  if  they  yearn  for  the  beloved  household  from  which  they  are  sepa- 
rated ;  and  if  they  look  back  to-day,  homesick  and  heartsick,  still  may  they  be 
comforted  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  find  friends  among  strangers,  and  brethren 
among  those  who  are  so  far  away  from  their  kin.  And  may  faith  and  the  blood 
of  Christ  be  more  to  them  than  love  and  the  blood  of  men. 


234:  TEE  RIGHT  WAT  OF  GIVING  PLEASURE. 

We  beseecli  of  tliee,  0  Lord  !  tlial  tliou  wilt  grant  that  all  that  are  upon  the 
sea,  all  that  are  in  the  wilderness,  all  that  are  in  distant  places,  and  all  that  are 
in  any  danger  may  today  have  the  divine  succor,  the  divine  presence,  and  the 
divine  comfort.  Be  with  all  the  outcasts  ;  with  all  children  of  suflFering  and  sor- 
row. And  if  their  sorrows  and  sufferings  spring  from  their  faults,  teach  them 
better.  Grant  that  they  may  not  be  given  up  because  they  are  bad  ;  for  what 
would  have  become  of  the  world  and  of  us,  if  thou,  0  Jesus !  hadst  forsaken  us 
because  of  fault  ?  Grant,  0  Lord  !  that  we  may  not  wait  till  they  come  to  us ;  for 
what  would  have  become  of  us,  if  thou  hadst  waited  until  we  sought  thee,  thou 
that  didst  go  forth  to  seek  and  to  save  ?  May  we  seek  and  save  all  the  outcasts  ; 
and  bear  the  Gospel,  not  alone  to  those  that  come  to  hear,  but  to  those  that  refuse 
to  come,  and  stay  away. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thy  truth  may  be  preached  throughout  our 
whole  land.  May  education  prevail.  May  the  poor  be  enfranchised,  and  lifted 
through  intelligence  into  true  piety,  and  into  strength.  Grant  that  their  lives 
may  mean  something  to  them,  and  more  and  more  every  year. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  overrule  the  destinies  of  this  nation.  Save 
us  from  materiality,  and  the  worship  of  the  senses.  Deliver  us  from  the  power 
of  wealth  and  luxury  in  overmeasure.  Deliver  us  from  misrule  and  mad  ambi- 
tion of  corrupt  men.  Deliver  us  from  the  evils  of  the  flesh.  May  thy  kingdom 
prevail  everywhere,  and  may  thy  will  be  done  in  all  this  land. 

Look  upon  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Pity  those  that  are  low,  and  weak,  and 
degraded  ;  and  grant  that  knowledge  and  true  piety  may  enfranchise  the  people. 
And  if  there  be  any  that  are  struggling  for  their  liberty  of  manhood,  and  for 
their  right  to  be,  be  thou  on  their  side.  Lend  thine  own  omnipotent  arm,  we 
beseech  of  thee,  to  their  peoples.  May  they  overthrow  their  oppressors,  and 
stand  regenerated  in  their  own  place.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  Avars,  cruel  as 
they  are,  may  be  nurses  which  thou  dost  send  forth  by  which  nations  are  reared; 
Grant  that  wars  may  cease  to  be  mere  bloodshed.  More  and  more  may  they  be- 
come God's  discipline.  May  evils,  stabbed,  perish.  And  grant  that  great  deliver- 
ance may  be  wrought  out  by  the  sword.  And  since  it  has  had  its  time  of  cruelty, 
may  it  now  have  its  time  of  justice  and  judgment.  And  we  pray  that  all  the 
promises  in  respect  to  this  world  may  not  wither  for  want  of  moisture  at  the  root. 
Remember  them,  and  water  them.  Cause  them  to  blossom,  and  bud,  and  bring 
forth  fruit.  Thou  long-delaying  God,  hidden  as  thou  art  from  eternity,  come 
forth  from  thy  secret  chambers  to  remember  the  nations  and  the  whole  world, 
and  to  make  haste  and  bring  in  the  latter-day  glory,  when  all  shall  know  thee, 
and  all  shall  love  thee.  And  to  the  Father,  the  Son.  and  Spirit  shall  be 
praise  evermore.    Amen, 


XIV 

The  Perfect  Manhood. 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 


"  Till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son 
of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man." — Eph.  iv.  13. 


The  apostle,  in  the  preceding  verses,  has  been  speaking  of  the 
variety  of  instruments  employed  in  the  promulgation  of  the  Gospel. 
"  He  gave  some,  apostles ;  and  some,  prophets ;  and  some,  evan- 
gelists; and  some,  pastors  and  teachers."  He  then  states,  generally, 
the  object  for  which  they  were  given — "For  the  perfecting  of  the 
saints  ;  for  the  work  of  the  ministry ;  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of 
Christ" — the  general  services  of  the  church,  And  then,  in  the  passage 
which  I  have  selected,  more  particularly  he  declares,  "  Till  we  all 
come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of 
God,  unto  a  perfect  man."  All  churches,  all  ordinances,  all  doctrines, 
all  sorts  of  moral  teachers,  are  ordained  for  the  sake  of  making  per- 
fect men  ;  and  Christianity  may  be  said  to  be,  in  a  general  way,  the 
aH  of  being  whole ^nen^  in  distinction  from  partial  men,  and  make-be- 
lieve men.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  Christianity  tends  to  make 
men  better.  It  does  that ;  but  on  the  way  to  something  higher.  Its 
aim  is  to  develop  a  perfect  manhood.  "  Till  we  all  come  unto  a  per- 
fect man."  And  thatmauhood  can  never  be  reached  except  in  Christ 
Jesus.  This  is  not  merely  saying  that  men  need  divine  help  in  all 
upward  striving — which  is  strictly  true  ;  but  it  is  teaching  that  human 
nature,  developed  j^erfectly,  becomes  divine.  We  hold  a  nature  in 
common  with  the  divine  nature.  When  we  can  work  out  from  it  the 
accidental,  the  transient,  the  local,  that  which  is  left  is  strictly  divine 
— it  is  like  Christ.  No  man  can  be  divine  in  scope  and  degree  ;  but 
in  kind  he  may.  Every  oak-tree  in  the  nursery  is  like  the  oak-tree  of 
a  hundred  years.  Not  in  size,  but  in  nature,  it  is  just  as  much  an  oak- 
ti'ee  as  the  biggest.     We  are  not  of  the  divine  magnitude,  nor  of  the 

*  Preached  in  the  chapel  of  the  West-Point  Military  Academy,  Sunday  morn- 
ing, June  13, 1869,  before  the  graduating  class. 

Lesson  :  Prov.  1.    Hymns  :  "  Come,  ye  that  love  the  Lord  •"  "  How  gentle  God's  commandB ;" 
'  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds."  • 


236      '  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

divine  scope,  nor  of  the  divine  power ;  but  we  are  of  the  divnie  nature. 
We  have  common  natures — God  and  we ;  and  these,  not  by  figure, 
but  really. 

One  must  not  confound,  then,  Christianity  and  religion.  Religion 
is  the  specific  of  which  Christianity  is  the  generic.  The  one  is  sim- 
ply worship.  The  other  is  character.  Religion  is  a  jjartialism — a 
very  noble  partialism  ;  but  it  is  the  employment  of  only  one  part  of 
our  nature,  namely,  that  which  relates  to  the  divine  and  the  invisible. 
Christianity,  on  the  other  hand,  including  this,  and  using  it,  takes  in 
all  the  other. faculties  as  well,  and  seeks,  not  to  make  men  do  right 
things,  this  and  that,  but  to  create  a  manhood  in  men.  It  would  develop 
perfectly  every  power  of  the  body,  every  faculty  of  the  mind,  and 
round  out  the  whole  into  a  perfect  man.  Religion  did  not  attempt  to 
do  that.  It  does  not  attempt  to  do  it.  Religion  teaches  men  to  pray, 
to  worship,  to  awe,  to  venerate,  to  be  obedient :  but  Christianity 
teaches  men  to  be  men  all  through,  doiug  this,  and  doing  all  the  other 
things  besides.  Religion  would  frame  a  just  man.  Christ  would  make 
a  whole  man.  Religion  would  save  a  man.  Christ  would  make  him 
worth  saving.  The  noble  religion  of  the  Hebrew  trained  men  for  an 
eaithly  commonwealth.  Christ  brought  in  immortality,  and  trained 
men  for  an  earthly  commonwealth,  in  order  that  they  might  become 
inhabitants  of  a  higher,  a  heavenly  commonwealth.  It  was  because 
the  full  development  of  mankind  required  more  room,  and  new  and 
higher  formative  influences,  that  there  was  a  new  dispensation  super- 
induced upon  the  former  one. 

It  is  to  this  view  of  truth  that  I  shall  call  your  attention  to-day — 
namely,  the  Christian  idea  of  perfect  inanhood. 

Consider  what  the  nature  of  this  manhood  must  be.  In  some 
respects,  it  is  already  predetermined  by  the  nature  of  man.  It  is  not 
a  manhood  that  is  to  lie  outside  of  the  faculties  with  which  we  are 
already  endowed.  Grace  and  the  divine  Spirit  certainly  recreate 
us ;  but  they  add  nothing  to  the  organic  nature  of  men.  Perfect 
inanhood  will  require  the  harmonious  development  of  all  the  parts  of 
the  human  mind  and  body,  as  God  has  already  made  them.  And  so, 
a  perfect  character  is  in  some  sense  predetei-mined.  Nothing  is  super 
fluous  in  man.  No  part  too  much  ;  nothing  too  little.  No  appetite 
is  infixed  in  our  constitution  but  is  useful ;  no  passion  that  is  supei'- 
fluous  ;  no  force,  or  faculty,  or  function,  that  is  not  indispensable.  The 
body  itself  is  sacred,  whatever  men  may  have  thought  it  necessary  to 
say  respecting  it.  It  is  to  be  cherished  and  to  be  honored.  The 
great  ground  instincts  of  our  nature,  from  Avhich  have  sprung  such 
infinite  mischiefs  by  their  misrule,  are  nevertheless  indispensable  con- 
ditions of  power,  and  of  power  in  the  higher  range,  too.  The  social 
afiections,  the  whole  iitellectual  department,  the  artistic  and  the  a^g- 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  237 

thetic  facilities,  the  moral  and  tlie  spiritual  sentiments — all  these,  and 
each  in  its  rank  and  degree,  are  comijonent  elements  of  true  Christian 
manhood.  Hear  Paul :  "I  pray  God  your  whole  spirit,  and  soul,  and 
body  be  preserved  blameless,  unto  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  There  is  breadth  for  you !  Manhood,  with  him,  meant  every 
thing  that  it  pleased  God  to  put  into  the  making  of  a  man. 

Christianity  is  not  a  partialism,  the  outgrowth  of  any  one  age  or 
time :  it  is  the  utmost  possible  development  of  the  race  of  man,  em- 
bracing in  its  history  all  the  past,  in  its  intention  the  whole  bound- 
less future. 

Christianity  is  not  designed  to  lop  off,  or  to  dry  up.  It  is  not  de- 
signed to  elimiitete  the  faculties,  but  to  give  them  expansion  and  power 
and  training,  and  to  make  more  of  them,  not  less.  For  self-denial  itself, 
which  is  commanded,  is  but  an  interior  discipline  by  which  the  higher 
faculties  keep  under  the  lower.  There  is  what  is  called  cruciftjing^ 
and  there  is  what  is  called  slaying  and  destroying  •  but  this  language 
is  not  to  be  taken  as  literal.  Our  business  is  not  to  lessen,  but  to 
regulate,  not  to  destroy,  but  to  educate  and  control,  every  thing  that 
it  jjleases  God  to  give  us.  There  is  to  be  no  such  ascetic  notion  as  \ 
shall  attempt  to  throw  out  any  part  of  man's  nature,  as  if  he  would 
be  better  without  it  than  with  it.  There  may  be  the  necessity  of 
obliging  some  part  of  our  nature  to  express  itself  less  generously  and 
less  freely,  as  a  man  may  be  enforced  to  limit  his  pride;  but  no_ 
man  should  destroy  his  pride.  It  may  be  necessary  for  a  man  to 
bring  down  somewhat  the  mountain  Df  his  firmness — or  obstinacy, 
rather ;  but  no  man  is  good  for  any  thing  who  has  not  some  particle 
of  obstinacy  to  use  ui^on  occasion.  It  may  be  necessary  for  a  man  to  ] 
restrict  his  vanity  ;  but  a  man  who  does  not  love  praise  is  not  a  fuU. 
man.  It  may  be  necessary  for  a  man  to  strengthen  himself  against  an 
undue  sympathy  and  afiection  ;  and  yet,  a  man  without  affection  is 
not  a  whole  man.  There  is  not  a  single  element  that  goes  into  the 
possession  of  the  human  mind  which  leaves  a  man  more  a  man  when 
it  is  taken  out,  any  more  than  the  body  is  made  more  a  body  when 
a  muscle,  or  nerve,  or  bone  is  taken  out.  There  is  no  faculty  nor  im- 
pulse, there  is  no  part  of  the  mental  economy  that  was  not  adjusted 
with  just  as  deliberate  a  view  to  final  richness,  as  every  single  stoj) 
in  the  organ.  Every  part  is  indispensable.  Every  part,  however, 
must  come  under  education,  must  be  coordinated,  must  be  kept  in  regu- 
lated activity,  in  order  that  manhood  may  have  infinite  variety,  sweet- 
ness, power,  versatility,  endurance,  and  beauty.  And  one  will  be  struck, 
in  reading  the  letters  of  Paul,  to  see  how  much  he  had  in  mind  these 
four  points:  Yirs,%  totality — the  whole  man;  next  symmetry — well- 
proportioned  and  balanced  excellences  ;  then,  power — the  energetic 


238  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

condition  of  each  several   part,  and  of  the   completed  whole ;  and 
lastly,  quality,  or,  as  it  may  be  called,  beauty  of  character. 

A  true  Hebrew,  Paul  seems  to  have  had  but  little  of  that  sensuous 
love  of  beauty  which  charactei'ized  the  Greek  mind.  There  is  little 
evidence  that  either  art  or  nature  produced  on  him  any  considerable 
sesthetic  impression.  But  I  know  not  where  we  can  find  among  the 
ancient  wi'iters  of  any  nation,  evidence  of  such  a  love  of  beauty  in 
moral  qualities.  It  is  not  enough  that  any  quality  should  be  in  action ; 
it  must  have  grace  of  action  ;  fullness  of  action  ;  proportionate  ac- 
tion ;  continuity  of  .action.  Every  single  faculty  must  dress  itself 
in  all  the  excellence  of  which  it  is  susceptible.  Love  is  commanded  ; 
but  "  let  love  be  without  dissimulation."  The  teiv  thousand  arts 
which  seem  to  some  so  witching  in  love  were  to  be  laid  aside.  It 
was  to  be  pure  as  the  evening  sky  in  summer.  Generosity  was  incul- 
cated ;  but  it  was  not  enough  to  be  simply  generous.  "  He  that 
giveth,  let  him  do  it  with  simplicity ;"  not  pompously,  not  ostenta- 
tiously, not  boastfully.  Do  not  give,  as  many  rich  men  do,  like  a 
hen,  that  lays  her  ^^^^  and  then  cackles.  Give  loith  simplicity. 
And  so  through  the  whole  catalogue  of  manly  qualities.  It  is  not 
enough  that  men  should  have  the  qualities — they  must  have  them  in 
strength.  These  qualities  must  have  grace.  They  must  be  beauteous 
as  well  as  pure  and  strong. 

This,  then,  is  the  Christian  ideal  of  manhood  :  the  development 
of  man's  whole  nature  into  power  and  activity  ;  the  training  of  every 
part  into  subordination  and  harmony ;  the  enriching  of  every  part, 
and  of  the  whole,  with  whatever  is  sweet  and  generous  and  genial 
and  beautifuh  A  true  man  after  Chi-ist  will  be  the  most  noble  and 
beautiful  thing  upon  the  earth — the  freest,  the  most  joyous,  the  most 
fruitful  in  all  goodness.  There  is  no  picture  that  was  ever  painted, 
there  is  no  statue  that  was  ever  carved,  there  was  no  work  of  art 
ever  conceived  of,  that  was  half  so  beautiful  as  is  a  living  man,  tho- 
roughly developed  upon  the  pattern  of  Christ  Jesus. 

Let  us  use  this  brief  opening  of  the  word  of  God,  for  instruction, 

for  criticism,  and  for  appeal. 

^^        1.  To  live  well  for  the  life  to  come  is  the  surest  way  of  living 

\     well  for  this  world.      And  to  live  rightly  for  this  world  is  the  surest 

V  \    way  of  living  rightly  for  the  world  to  come.     We  are  placed  in  cir- 

locumstances  in  this  world  such  that  all  things  next  to  us  must  receive 

attention — must  excite  thought.      They  come  in  upon  us  through 

every  one  of  our  senses.     We  live,  and  fulfill  our  duties.     Our  duties 

indeed  spring  out  of  the  right  using  of  the  natural  world,  and  of  all 

that  civil  society  which  has  been  divinely  organized  upon  the  natural 

world  ;  and  he  who  seeks  to  be  a  Christian  by  eschewing  duty,  by 

going  away  from  this  material  or  civil  life,  mistakes  entirely  the  di- 


THE  PEBFEGT  MANHOOD.  239 

vine  providential  arrangement.  Men  who  separate  these  two  quali- 
ties, however,  divorce  what  God  meant  should  always  be  joined  to- 
gether. 

Some  men  try  to  he  Christians  by  morality,  which  has  in  it  sim- 
ple justice  between  man  and  man,  and  are  wont  to  say,  "If  a  man 
will  do  about  right  here,  God  will  see  to  the  great  hereafter,"  which 
has  in  it  a  speck  of  truth,  and  but  a  speck.  Others,  taking  the 
other  part,  say,  "He  that  would  live  wisely  should  forsake  the  world, 
and  should  set  his  affections  on  things  above,"  perverting  the  apos- 
tolic meaning  of  that  beautiful  command,  as  if  it  were  our  business 
to  think  only  of  the  invisible,  and  live  as  anchorites,  separated  from 
the  activities  of  the  life  that  now  is.     These  must  be  kept  together. 

Shall  men  dispute  as  to  which  is  the  most  important,  the  forward- 
sight  upon  a  gun,  or  the  hind-sight  ?     In  its  place,  each  is  the  most 
important.      If  you  take   true  aim,  you   must  draw  the  fore-sight 
through  the  hind-sight.     And  shall  men  dispute  as  to  which  is  the 
most  important,  this  world  or  the  other  ?     One  is  the  fore-sight,  and 
the  other  is  the  hind-sight.     Put  them  both  in  range,  and  work  them 
both  all  the  time.     This  is  the  only  woi-ld  that  we  can  live  in  at  pre- 
sent.     Human  life,  human  society  and  civil  government  are  God's 
means  of  grace.     It  is  your  drill-ground.     And  these  means  of  grace 
are  to  be  used  as  men  use  their  machines.     The  potter  does  not  ex- 
pect that  the  fine  clay  will  leave  its  nature  and  its  destiny,  and  be- 
come a  part  of  the  wheel  on  which  he  has  put  it,  that  he  may  foshion 
it.     Nor,  when  it  is  shaped,  and  put  into  the  furnace,  does  he  believe 
that  it  is  to  be  changed  into  flame,  and  go  away  as  gas  into  the  air. 
It  is  to  find,  by  the  machine,  and  through  the  furnace,  its  final  form 
and  beauty,  amid  grinding  and  heat.     And  we  are  in  this  world  to )  — 
be  fashioned  by  its  grinding.      The  multiplied  duties,  the  ten  thou- 
sand industries  of  life,  all  the  aspirations,  interstrifes  and  social  ex- 
citements of  experience — these  are  but  so  many  influences  that  are  ^ 
chiseling,  rasping,  shaping  us.     It  was  meant  to  be  so.      Life,  and        J 
business  in  life,  and  all  occupations  are  means  of  grace.     Sunday-  ^ 
schools  are  means  of  grace,  but  are  among  the  poorest.     The  church 
is  a  means  of  grace  ;  but,  comparatively  speaking,  it  is  a  distant 
means  of  grace.     So  are  ordinances  a  means  of  grace.     The  business 
that  God  calls  every  man  to,  the  toil  of  his  hands,  the  labor  of  his 
mind,  his  dealings  with  men  and  with  things — these  are  all  prior 
and  more  efiicacious  means  of  grace.      So  if  a  man  is  good   only 
in  his  seat  at  church,  or  in  the  Sabbath-school,  he  is  a  jioor  man. 
He  must  be  a  very  bad  man  that  can  not  be  good  in  church — if,  perad-     . 
venture,  he  keeps  awake  ! 

The  place  for  true  virtue  is  where  virtue  is  tempted.  The  place 
for  courage  is   where  there  is  danger.     The  place  for  manhood  is 


240  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

where  there  is  a  stress  in  the  other  direction.  It  is  where  men 
mingle  with  men,  and  are  tempted  to  selfishness,  and  rise  above  it, 
and  to  i^ride,  and  hold  it  in  subjection;  it  is  Avhere  men  are  tempted 
to  be  fiery,  and  bitter,  and  cruel,  and  greedy,  and  aggressive,  and  they, 
in  the  midst  of  these  temptations,  strengthen  the  other  tendency,  and 
lift  it  into  vitality — it  is  there  that  manhood  is  developed.  That  is 
God's  pulpit.  It  is  God's  church.  It  is  where  men  are  formed.  No 
man  is  formed  in  a  cave.  That  is  the  place  for  bats.  No  man  is 
formed  as  an  anchorite  or  ascetic.  You  are  to  be  living  men  among 
living  men,  overcoming  evil  tendencies  and  temptations.  It  is  there 
that  God  calls  you  to  be  full-orbed  men  in  Christ  Jesus. 

The  world  is  grandly  constituted  to  develop  manhood  in  those 
who  know  how  to  use  it.  But  how  base  and  ignoble  are  they  who 
squander  their  manhood  in  this  world  ;  who  pass  through  the  most 
wondrously  organized  system  of  education — namely,  the  natural, 
civil,  and  social  world — and  parcel  out  their  noble  nature,  as  it  were, 
for  sale  ;  who  coin  conscience  ;  who  suppress  their  spiritual  nature  ; 
who  dignify  success  in  worldly  things  ;  who  live,  not  for  manhood, 
but  for  selfishness,  for  pride,  for  pitiful  pelf! 

How  does  a  tool  or  machine  pass  through  the  various  shoj^s  in  its 
construction  ?  It  goes  in  a  lump  of  pig-iron.  Melted  and  rudely 
shaped  it  is  at  first.  It  passes  out  from  the  first  set  of  hands  into 
the  second.  There  something  more  is  given  to  it,  not  of  fineness, 
not  of  polish,  but  of  shape,  adapting  it  to  its  final  uses.  The  next 
shop  takes  something  from  it,  it  may  be,  trimming  away  the  clumsi- 
ness, reducing  it  in  bulk,  that  it  may  be  finer  in  adaptation.  And, 
still  going  on  from  shop  to  shop,  it  passes  through  some  twenty  dif- 
ferent sets  of  hands,  and  gains  something  from  every  single  man  that 
touches  it.  And  it  is  a  perfect  tool  or  machine  when  it  issues  from 
the  other  side. 

This  great  world,  my  young  friends,  is  God's  workshop.  You 
are  jDut  in  on  one  side,  and  every  single  shop,  every  single  experi- 
ence, is  to  take  from  you  something  that  you  are  better  without,  or 
add  something  to  you  that  shall  fit  you  for  use.  And  blessed  is  the 
man  who  gathers,  as  he  goes,  symmetry,  shapeliness,  temper,  quali- 
ty, adaptation,  so  that  when  he  issues  from  the  further  side,  he  is 
a  perfect  man.  But  see  how  men  go  out  of  this  world,  Avhich  is 
God's  workshop  for  making  men  in.  How,  after  childhood  and 
home  are  past,  most  men  gather  little  !  Indeed,  childhood  and  home 
constitute  the  sum  total  of  many  men's  thought  of  purity,  and  beau- 
ty, and  spirituality.  They  look  back  when  they  think  of  purity. 
Woe  to  the  man  that  has  to  look  back  for  simplicity,  for  pui-ity,  for 
childlikeness,  or  love !  How,  after  childhood  and  home  are  passed, 
do  men  grow  worse  and  worse  in  this  world  !     I  do  not  mean  what 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  241 

are  known  as  criminal  men.  I  mean  men  Avho  are  admitted  into 
society  ;  I  mean  men  who  are  "  respectable ;"  I  mean  men  that  Avonld 
resent  quickly,  if  not  with  challenge,  certainly  with  warmth,  if  you 
intimated  any  thing  to  their  disparagement ;  I  mean  men  as  you  see 
them  in  life.  How  has  many  a  man  passed  through  the  various 
steps  toward  the  last,  having  sacrificed  every  thing  in  life  to  his 
purity,  his  nobility,  his  scope,  his  aspiration.  The  elements  of  his 
being  were  moulded  together,  and  he  was  put  into  the  great  workshop 
of  life ;  and  God  meant  to  bring  out,  on  the  other  side,  a  man  in 
Christ  Jesus.  But  bartering  himself,  step  by  step,  all  the  way  through 
life,  under  temptation,  he  comes  out  a  swine,  groveling,  gross,  wal- 
lowing, living  for  mere  low  and  sensuous  indulgence. 

That  is  what  the  workshop  of  life  has  done  for  that  man.  It  has 
wasted  him  with  riotous  living.  Is  there  any  thing  so  degrading  as 
that  ?  A  man  will  be  filled  with  resentment  if  you  charge  him  with 
a  lie,  or  with  positive  dishonesty — and  perhaps  not  improperly ;  but 
a  man  will  stand  and  have  the  charge  laid  upon  him,  "  You  have 
destroyed  soul  and  body  •  you  have  broken  down  health  ;  you  have 
quenched  every  noble  instin<Jt  and  aspiration ;  you  have  lived  for 
the  eye,  and  the  mouth,  and  the  lowest  passions  ;  and  now,  toward 
the  end  of  life,  you  are  beastly,  and  overswollen  with  sensuous  indul- 
gence. And  you  are  about  to  lie  down  and  die.  That  is  what  life  has 
done  for  you.  Having  rolled  your  bulk  through  the  wallow  of  life, 
you  are  to  go  out  as  only  the  beast  goes."  Ah  !  no  beast  falls  below 
his  nature,  to  be  a  beast ;  but  a  man  does. 

Another  man  sacrifices  all  to  power,  and  the  ambition  of  it. 
Power  is  a  good  thing ;  and  if  it  comes  to  a  man,  let  him  take  it  and 
use  it.  A  man  without  ambition  is  like  a  man  without  a  backbone. 
He  needs  stifiening  and  incitement.  But  power  and  ambition  may 
be  bought  at  too  higli  a  price.  If  a  man  have  them  legitimately;  if 
h'e  grasp  them  with  the  hands  of  true  excellence  ;  if  he  earn  them  ;  if 
they  belong  to  him  in  right  of  what  he  is,  then  let  him  hold  them.  If 
God  meant  a  man  to  be  a  leader,  he  probably  will  find  it  out  him- 
self, or  God's  providence  will  make  it  known  to  him  ;  but  if  God  did 
not  mean  a  man  "to  be  a  leader,  and  he  ranks  the  sixth,  or  eighth,  or 
tenth,  or  a  score  of  places  down  in  the  scale,  and  he  thrusts  himself 
all  the  way  up,  wriggling,  creeping,  crawling,  sometimes  on  his  feet, 
and  sometimes  on  his  belly,  and  sometimes  on  all-fours ;  if  he  goes 
through  life,  and  gains  some  j^ower  and  position  and  notoriety,  and 
in  doing  so  loses  all  that  is  noblest  of  himself— justice,  self-con- 
trol, benevolence,  purity,  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  his  fellow- 
men — he  has  reached  the  j^oint  that  his  ambition  evilly  devised  for 
him  ;  but  he  has  lost  his  manhood. 

How  many  men  there  are  who  have  given  up  every  thing  that 


242  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

"was  worth  having  for  the  sake  of  external  wealth  !    Riches  are  good 
\.   Ithings.     The  having  of  riches,  however,  is  not  so  much  to  be  desired 

las  the  not  having  of  poverty.     It  is  what  riches  cut  oflf  rather  than 

I  what  they  add  to  a  man,  that  constitutes  much  of  their  value. 
They  give  a  certain  sort  of  independence  to  a  man.  They  give  him 
certain  powers  by  which,  if  he  has  the  disposition,  he  can  increase 
culture,  and  draw  about  him  sources  of  influence  and  blessing.  But 
riches  may  be  bought  at  too  high  a  premium.  You  can  buy  wealth. 
If  God  has  ordained  you  for  that  purpose,  it  is  right  to  be  rich,  and  to 
seek  riches.  It  is  an  honorable  calling  for  a  man  to  follow,  under 
such  circumstances.  But  if  a  man  pays  for  his  money  with  his 
manhood,  and  comes  to  his  vast  estate  shrunk  and  shriveled,  it  is 
neither  honorable  nor  right.  How  many  men  there  are  that  pipe 
over  their  gains,  no  larger  than  a  summer's  mosquito  on  the  last 
days  of  its  life,  thin,  sharp,  blood-sucking,  voracious,  and  worthless ! 
How  many  men  are  like  steamers  that  have  been  blown  about  by 
mighty  winds  until  they  are  out  of  fuel,  and  can  not  get  back  to  port 
again  with'out  burning  the  furniture  and  parts  of  themselves ;  and  so, 
after  all  those  articles  on  board  which  are  combustible  are  consumed, 
part  after  part  is  torn  away  and  burned  in  order  to  raise  steam 
enough  to  get  back,  and  they  are  stripped  of  every  thing  from  stem 
to  stern,  when  they  enter  port!  Many  men  thus  come  into  the  har- 
bor of  old  age  empty.  They  have  used  themselves  for  fuel  to  make 
steam  all  through  their  life.  And  these  are  the  men  that  you  are 
exjiected  to  take  oflT  your  hat  to.  These  are  the  men  that  walk  look- 
ing superciliously  down  upon,  and  pitying  poor  men — men  who  are  "  too 
conscientious,"  or  who  have  "  stood  in  their  own  light,"  as  it  is  said. 

^Men  that  will  not  do  wrong ;  men  that  abhor  evil,  because  they  are 

a  law  to  themselves ;  men  of  honor  ;  men  of  simplicity  ;  men  that  love 

'     the  thing  that  is  right,  and  just,  and  good,  and  true,  and  pure — how 

V  are  they  pitied  by  the  successful  men  of  the  world  !  Many  men 
think  they  have  ravaged  the  Avorld  ;  but  the  world  has  ravaged  them. 
Many  men  think  they  have  led  honor  captive  ;  but  they  have  dishon- 
ored and  disgraced  their  essential  manhood.  Many  men  think  they 
have  built  a  great  Babylon ;  but  God  beholds  how,  after  all,  they  are 
as  beasts,  on  whom  feathers  or  hair  doth  grow,  and  has  sent  them 
to  browse  as  beasts  upon  the  very  ground.  It  is  a  base  thing  for  a 
man  to  be  put  into  God's  workshop,  which  was  set  up  on  purpose  to 
make  men,  and  come  out  on  the  other  side  without  a  single  attribute 
of  manhood. 

Ah  !   such  wastes  as  there  are !     For   a  man  to   walk  through 
cities  and  towns,  and  see  what  becomes  of  manhood,  is  enough  to 
tui'n  his  head  into  a  fountain  of  tears.    It  is  eno^igh  to  see  the  \fiaste8  . 
of  antiquity — the  battered  statues ;  the  toppled-down  columns  ;  the 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  243 

fractured  walls ;  the  ruins  of  the  Parthenon.  It  is  a  sad  experience, 
mingling  both  pain  and  gladness.  But  of  all  the  destructions  that 
have  gone  on  in  this  world,  and  that  are  now  going  on  every  day  in  the 
great  cities  which  are  grinding  and  crushing  out  manhood,  the  de- 
struction of  men  is  the  saddest.  Men  are  as  clusters  in  the  vine-vat ; 
and  the  feet  of  temptation  tread  them  down  as  the  vintner's  feet  tread 
the  clusters.  And  blood  flows  out  as  wine.  And  yet,  this  is  a  world 
that  was  made  on  purpose  to  make  men  better  ;  to  griyd  them  to  shape ; 
to  sharpen  them  ;  to  temper  them.  And  woe  be  to  the  man  that  is 
burned,  or  that  is  crushed,  and  that  comes  out  worthless,  and  goes 
into  the  rubbish-heap  of  the  universe  ! 

2.  I  call  you,  young  men,  to  a  Christian  life,  not  simply  because 
it  is  the  way  of  duty,  but  because  it  is  the  only  way  in  Avhich  you 
can  find  your  own  selves.  There  are  reasons  springing  from  the 
eternal  government  of  God,  from  the  rightful  authority  of  God,  from 
the  issues  of  the  eternal  world,  why  you  should  be  Christians ;  but 
there  are  other  reasons  springing  from  the  nature  of  your  own  soul — 
from  your  make-up.  I  hold  that  no  man  can  be  a  man,  who  is  not  J  — 
a  Christian.  Not  that  a  man  becomes  a  man  by  becoming  a  mem- 
ber of  the  church,  or  a  believer.  N'ot  that  a  man  must  be  a  sectary 
to  be  a  Christian.  All  sectaries  are  partialists.  I  call  men  to  Christ 
because  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus  is  the  true  ideal  of  the  man.  ■* 

There  is  an  impression  that  religion  is  a  life  of  restriction  ;  that 
it  is  a  pent-uj)  and  imprisoned  way,  full  of  inconvenience  and  loss, 
and  that  men  are  to  be  paid  hereafter  for  what  they  lack  here;  that 
they  are  to  reclaim,  or  commute  for,  in  the  heavenly  land,  what  they 
lose  in  this  world.  Men  think  that,  outside  of  the  Christian  life, 
ther'fe  is  a  certain  liberty,  and  gayety,  and  joyousness,  and  that  the 
natural  state  is  the  more  manly,  on  the  whole.  Those  men  must 
have  seen  poor  specimens  of  Christians,  who  think  that  the  natural 
state  is  a  truer  state  of  manhood  than  the  Christian  state.  For  the'' 
true  Christian  is  the  largest  built  of  any  living  man,  is  the  creature 
of  the  greatest  joy,  and  is  by  far  the  one  who  has  the  greatest  lib- 
erty. No  man  is  free  until  he  has  learned  to  live  in  his  higher  A. 
nature.  Only  in  learning  to  be  a  Christian  is  life  burdensome  ;  and 
it  is  so  with  every  thing  else.  When  a  language  is  commanded,  it 
becomes  a  source  of  larger  scope  and  enjoyment.  While  men  are 
learning  the  grammar  of  the  language,  it  is  tedious.  When  they 
have  gained  knowledge,  certainly  they  are  larger  in  their  stature 
intellectually.  While  they  are  beginning  it,  in  the  throes  of  learn- 
ing, they  are  held  in,  and  restricted.  It  is  true  that,  while  they  are 
learning,  men  have  to  deny  themselves  ;  they  have  to  do  painful 
things.  The  man  that  is  tempted  to  dishonesty,  and  tliat  will  not 
yield  to  the  temptation,  suffers  in  his  effort  to  overcome  the  evil 


244  TEE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

tendency  in  him.  The  man  that  is  tempted  to  be  mean,  and  that  is 
seeking  to  iSe  noble,  suffers  in  his  strife  against  that  narrow  streak  in 
his  constitution.  The  man  that  becomes  larger  and  better  has  to  go 
through  the  penalty  that  lies  in  his  way.  Only  in  this  sense  is  man- 
hood in  Christ  painful.  While  we  are  learning  to  rise  higher  than 
our  animal  natures,  we  have  to  put  up  with  inconveniences  and  dis- 
comforts. They  are  unavoidable  in  the  nature  of  things.  When  we 
are  in  the  intermediate  stage,  and  are,  as  it  were,  mechanical  men — 
men  that  know  how  to  do,  how  to  create,  how  to  act ;  if  we  would 
go  higher,  and  become  spiritual  men,  or  truly  intellectual  men,  then 
we  must  put  our  feet  on  our  intermediate  nature,  and  break  that 
in,  and  bring  it  into  subordination  to  our  higher  nature.  And  while 
this  is  going  on,  life  may  have  its  burden. 

That  is  what  the  cross  means.  It  is  what  self-denial  means. 
Self-denial  is  only  the  higher  feelings  putting  the  whip  on  a  lower 
one,  because  it  .is  impudent,  and  is  disturbing  the  soul.  While  you 
are  breaking  into  subordination  a  lower  feeling,  there  is,  and  ought 
to  be,  a  degree  of  suffering.  But  when  a  man  at  last  has  his  own 
consent  to  live  as  God  meant  that  he  should ;  when  he  is  in  pure 
health  of  body  ;  when  his  every  organ  is  cultivated  ;  when  he  has  per- 
fect control  of  his  animal  nature,  holding  it  for  force,  but  not  for 
luxury ;  when  he  has  learned  to  energize  all  above  it,  and  to  give 
breadth  and  power  to  it ;  when  he  has  learned  to  live  in  his  affec- 
tions and  moral  sentiments,  and  to  move  abroad  as  thought  itself 
upon  the  wings  of  the  understanding,  then  he  is  a  true  Christian. 
And  there  is  no  one  that  can  compare  with  such  a  Christian  for  joy, 
for  hope,  for  satisfaction,  and  for  liberty.  There  is  no  man  so  free  as 
the  man  that  is  a  law  unto  himself — and  that  is  what  a  Christian 
becomes. 

You  do  not  tell  the  truth  because  the  public  sejitiment  is  out 
aarainst  lies.  'You  tell  the  truth  because  the  truth  is  sweeter  than 
lies.  You  are  honorable,  not  on  account  of  any  thing  that  you  fear 
from  being  dishonorable,  but  because  there  is  an  intrinsic  beauty  and 
fitness  in  honor  that  you  esteem. 

Why  does  a  man  like  chords  in  music  ?  Is  it  because  musical 
books  teach  that  certain  musical  notes  sounded  together  are  plea- 
sant ?  Does  he  love  them  because  these  books  say  he  ought  to,  and 
prescribe  them  ?  The  cause  is  deeper  than  that.  It  is  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  mind  and  soul.  Men  love  harmony  and  melody 
because  they  conform  to  the  law  and  nature  of  their  being.  I  hold 
that  every  thing  which  a  Christian  man  believes,  purposes,  does,  is  in 
conformity  with  the  radical  and  fundamental  notion  of  God,  ex- 
pressed in  the  human  soul ;  and  that  no  man  is  acting  so  entirely  in 
accordance  with  his  own  nature,  and  therefore  so  freely  and  so  large- 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  245 

ly,  as  a  true  Christian  man.  And  if  you  suppose  that  the  life  of  a 
Christian  is  a  life  of  bondage  and  penances,  you  have  derived  your 
knowledge  from  wrong  sources. 

There  have  been  periods  when  men  have  taken  one-sided  views, 
and  run  them  into  partialisms,  and  given  them  an  inordinate  devel- 
opment. Therefore  men  have"  come  to  think  that  tears  are  more 
sacred  than  smiles.  No.  Laughing  is  as  divine  as  ci'ying.  Tnere 
are  men  who  think  that  sorrow  has  something  in  it  more  wonder- 
fully divine  than  joy.  Sorrow  is  divine  ;  but  joy  was  divine  first, 
and  will  be  after  weeping  and  sorrow  are  swept  out  of  the  universe. 
Joy  is  more  divine  than  sorrow ;  for  joy  is  bread,  and  sorrow  is 
medicine. 

I  hold  that  the  true  Christian  man  is  the  noblest  man,  the  strong- 
est man,  the  freest  man,  the  largest  man.  He  is  like  a  harp,  not 
subjected  to  rude  and  random  touches,  but  handled  by  a  skillful 
player.  His  soul  is  so  organized  and  acted  upon  that  there  is  melo- 
dy produced  from  every  single  chord,  and  from  all  of  them  match- 
less harmonies. 

3.  I  call  you  to  discriminate  between  God's  men  and  the  church's 
men.  I  do  not  call  you  to  be  men  in  the  church,  or  to  be  men 
according  to  the  sects,  whether  they  have  prevailed  in  times  past,  or 
do  now  prevail.  I  do  not  speak  in  disparagement  of  the  churches  ; 
for  I  regard  them  as  I  do  every  other  machinery.  The  church  is  a 
human  machine  made  to  educate  men.  It  is  to  religion  what  schools 
and  academies  are  to  the  intellectual  part  of  the  human  soul,  and  is 
not  to  be  spoken  against.  Some  churches  are  better  than  others. 
That  is  the  best  church  which  makes  the  best  men.  Churches  are 
fond  of  comparing  their  pedigrees,  and  bringing  out  their  own  uni- 
forms, and  boasting  of  their  weapons,  one  or  another; 

It  makes  no  difference  whatever,  in  watch-making,  whom  you  get 
your  watch  from.  If  there  should  be  a  dispute  between  German, 
Belgian,  French,  English,  and  American  horologists,  as  to  which  was 
the  best  watch-maker,  how  would  you  test  it?  By  arguments  and 
logical  reasonings  ?  No.  You  would  take  their  watches  and  try 
them.  Thebest  watch-maker  is  he  that  makes  the  best  watch.  And  I 
say  that  the  apostolic  sects  arre  those  that  make  the  most  apostles.  It 
is  the  best  sect  that  makes  the  best  men.  Creeds  may  have  niore 
or  less  relevancy  to  them,  and  ordinances  may  have  more  or  less 
relevancy  to  them,  and  methods  may  have  more  or  less  relevancy 
to  them;  but,  after  all,  the  true  Avay  to  judge  of  all  sects  and 
churches,  is  to  inquii-e  from  Avhich  sort  come  the  most  of  tlie  best 
men.  That  is  the  best  sect  for  you  and  for  every  body.  And  the 
plain  common  sense  of  our  time,  rising  above  the  superstition  of 
mediaeval  ages,  will  ere  long  enforce  that  upon  the  churches  them- 


246  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

selves.  And  it  will  be  understood  that  churches  are  but  manufactu- 
rers of  men,  and  are  to  be  judged  by  the  wares  they  turn  out.  It  is 
the  essential  nature  and  use  of  things  which  determines  which  is  best 
and  highest. 

I  do  not  call  you,  then,  to  live  in  the  church,  although  the  church 
is  to  be  used ;  although  you  will,  I  trust,  one  and  all  of  you,  be  found 
at^he  altar,  and  be  found  reverent  in  the  oflBces  of  revealed  religion, 
and  respecters  of  things  sacred.  Yet,  after  all,  my  model  of  man  is 
not  the  narrow,  low,  partial  model  that  prevails  in  all  sects ;  for  you 
must  be  larger  than  any  sect  in  which  you  go.  Manhood  is  bigger 
than  any  machine  by  which  one  is  educated.  A  man  is  larger  than 
the  common  school  where  he  learns.  If  an  academy  graduates  a 
man,  it  is  because  he  is  too  big  to  be  held.  A  nest  is  good  for  a 
robin  while  it  is  an  egg ;  but  it  is  bad  for  a  robin  when  it  has  got 
wings.  It  is  a  poor  place  to  fly  in,  but  it  is  a  good  place  to  be 
hatched  in.  Institutions  always  dig  their  own  graves  if  they  are 
good  for  any  thing.  In  an  educatory  institution  that  is  good  for  any 
thing,  men  become  larger  than  the  institution.  The  candlestick 
holds  the  butt  of  the  candle,  but  does  it  hold  the  light  ?  Beneficent 
institutions  of  every  kind  are  but  men-holders  or  men-makers. 

I  would  not,  then,  urge  religion  upon  you,  having  you  think,  "  I 
am  to  be  a  Methodist ;"  oi*,  "  I  am  to  be  a  Baptist ;"  or,  "  I  am  to  be 
a  Congregationalist,  or  Presbyterian ;"  or,  "  I  am  to  be  a  Church- 
man ;"  a  High  one,  a  Low  one,  or  a  Middling  one.  Any  man's  grind- 
stone is  good  enough  to  grind  you  on ;  any  man's  shop  is  good 
enough  to  make  you  in;  any  church  is  good  enough  for  you  to 
develop  a  Christian  life  in.  There  is  not  a  church  on  earth  that  has 
not  something  of  truth  in  it ;  and  enough,  if  you  have  a  mind  to 
appropriate  it,  to  feed  you  upon,  and  to  build  you  up  to  manhood. 
There  is  no  church  that  contains  all  the  truth.  There  is  no  church 
that  is  supereminent  over  all  others.  The  various  churches  are  so 
many  schools  and  academies  and  colleges  in  which  men  are  being  edu- 
cated. And  your  manhood  should  be  larger  and  nobler  than  any  sect — 
should  fill  up  and  overrun  the  measure.  As  a  vine,  growing  in  a  gar- 
den by  the  side  of  the  road,  does  not  confine  all  its  flowers  and  clusters 
to  the  garden  side,  but  hangs  over  the  wall,  and  bears  blossoms  and 
clusters  in  the  road ;  so  a  man,  wherever  he  grows,  should  be  larger 
than  the  thing  that  he  grows  in.  Wherever  you  go,  let  your  man- 
hood be  bigger  than  any  human  institution.  It  is  a  shame  for  an  in- 
stitution to  be  bigger  than  the  man  that  it  has  reared.  God,  when 
he  reached  down  his  creating  hand,  and  swept  a  circle  larger  than  a 
continent,  broader  than  an  age,  and  vast  as  the  eternal  sphere,  said, 
"  Let  it  be  called  man.'''' 

Burrow  not,  then,  in  any  hole.     Shrink  yourself  not  to  the  girt 


THE  PERFECT   MANHOOD.  i  i7 

of  any  sectarianism.  Love  every  thing ;  love  all  men.  Use  every 
thing ;  use  all  men.  Use  churches  as  you  do  hotels — not  to  live  in, 
but  to  take  your  food  and  refreshment  in,  on  your  way  to  your  Father's 
house.  The  Father's  house  is  the  only  place  that  is  fit  for  the  perma- 
nent abidance  of  the  soul.  And  while  I  would  dissuade  you  from  the 
life  of  the  scoifer,  and  the  scarcely  less  respectable  life  of  the  indiffe- 
rent man,  I  beseech  of  you,  do  not  narrow  and  demean  yourself  so 
much  as  to  feel  that  any  sect  or  denomination  is  as  big  as  you  need, 
or  that  you  can  find  all  you  want  in  it. 

God  did  not  call  you  to  be  canary-birds  in  a  little  cage,  and  to  hop 
up  and  down  on  thi-ee  sticks,  within  a  space  no  larger  than  the  size 
of  the  cage.  God  calls  you  to  be  eagles,  and  to  fly  from  sun  to  sun, 
over  continents.  Be  large,  then,  be  strong,  be  wise,  be  pure,  as  God 
is ;  for  you  are  the  sons  of  God. 

4.  I  use  this  truth  as  a  matter  of  criticism,  to  ask  you  to  discern 
between  the  true  man  and  the  cun-ent  gentleman  of  life.  ISTo  man 
has  occasion  for  pride  of  gentlemanliness  whose  manhood  has  nothing 
in  it  of  religion.  A  man  must  be  a  Christian  who  would  be  a  gentle- > 
man.  A  man  who  is  a  gentleman  should  be  a  Christian.  The  cur- 
rent gentleman  may  have  much  in  him  that  is  good,  in  single  qualities. 
Indeed,  he  may  be  of  surpassing  excellence.  But  if  a  man  devotes  him- 
self to  a  single  flower,  we  expect  him  to  get  better  flowers  than  the 
gardener  who  takes  the  whole  range  of  botany.  For  you  can  not  give 
to  ten  thousand  flowers  as  much  culture  as  to  a  single  one.  And 
there  are  men  who  pride  themselves  upon  their  honesty,  or  truthful- 
ness. That  is  the  only  virtue  that  they  have.  The  whole  force  of 
their  life  goes  into  that  one  quality.  They  ought  to  have  that  one  ; 
but  would  you  consider  that  a  well-developed  man  whose  nose  was 
developed  above  every  thing  else  on  his  face  ;  whose  whole  growth 
had  been  concentrated  in  that  one  feature  ?  Is  that  a  well-developed 
man,  any  of  Avhose  limbs  is  developed  out  of  proportion  ?  Gentle- 
men of  society  frequently  excel  other  men  in  single  qualities,  having 
cheated  their  whole  nature  to  make  themselves  agreeable  and  polish- 
ed. To  be  a  gentleman,  requires  that  one  shall  be  a  full  man.  Man- 
hood requires  more  than  conventional  refinement ;  more  than  the 
stock  proprieties  of  life.  Is  he  a  gentleman  who  only  keeps  his  word, 
vindicates  his  courage,  and  polishes  his  intercourse  in  society,  but 
who  does  not'  hesitate  to  indulge  in  coarse  animal  passions,  in  lust^ 
in  gluttony,  in  excess  of  wine  ?  Is  he  a  gentleman  who  lives  in  his 
animal  nature?  Is  he  a  gentleman  j^ho  has  no  higher  aim  in  life 
than  routine  duty  and  routine  pleasure  ?  Without  appetite  for  know- 
ledge, without  yearnings  and  inspirations,  without  growth,  without 
faith,  without  purity  and  love,  is  a  man  a  gentleman  ?  Can  you  make 
a  gentleman   by  cutting  a  man  in  two,  and  building  up  the  lower 


248  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

half,  and  leaving  the  upper  and  better  half  out  ?  Is  he  a  gentleman 
who  merely  conforms  to  a  few  starveling  maxims  of  conduct  and  con- 
ventional arrangements  of  society  to  prevent  overaction  ?  And  yet, 
what  higher  claim  than  this  have  many  who  pass  themselves  off  for 
y  being  gentlemen  ?  Manners  and  etiquette  are  too  often  but  the  fine 
(  color  and  empty  shell  of  a  thing  which  is  dead.  Color  is  good ;  but 
life  that  makes  color  is  a  great  deal  better. 

A  Christian  should  always  be  a  gentleman,  because  he  is  true,  and 
because  he  is  right ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  he  should  be  rude,  or 
coarse,  or  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  those  round  about  him.  Em- 
phatically, a  Christian  should  be  a  gentleman;  and  a  gentleman 
should  be  a  Christian.  Christianity,  as  I  have  said,  is  the  science  of 
being  a  whole  man. 

5.  Let  me  beseech  you  to  take  heed  to  the  substitution  of  class 
character  for  manhood.  In  some  lands  classes  are  organized  by 
government.  There  they  ai'e  less  evils  because  they  are  realities. 
But  in  communities  like  our  own,  where  classes  are  aggregated  by 
certain  elective  affinities,  the  worst  mischiefs  ensue ;  for,  the  world  over, 
classes  are  apt  to  be  arrogant  and  over-conceited.  They  are  small 
and  mean,  usually ;  and  yet,  men  that  belong  to  a  class,  or  to  a 
"  set,"  as  it  is  said-,  think  that  wisdom  shall  die  with  them.  They 
think  they  have  the  diameter  of  the  world.  They  think  their  thought 
the  very  measure  of  existence.  They  run  the  round  of  social  gayeties ; 
they  repeat  the  talk  of  their  own  sect ;  they  live  in  their  own  little 
cii'cle  ;  they  know  all  that  is  knowable  of  each  other,  and  run  through 
empty  fri^jperies  and  rounds  of  inane  vanities  ;  and  yet,  they  con- 
sider themselves  as  model  men — the  aristocrats  of  the  neighborhood. 
They  regard  themselves  to  be  the  class  of  all  classes.  They  despise 
the  lower  people — poor  men.  Thin  and  wasted  are  they  oftentimes, 
in  all  the  elements  of  manhood  except  position,  wealth,  and  a  certain 
class  influence. 

Beware,  then,  of  classes.  Join  them  just  as  a  man  joins  a  wood,  on 
his  way  through  it.  Go  into  them,  but  go  through  them.  Use  them, 
but  never  let  them  use  you.  Be  larger  than  any  -class  will  ever  let  its 
members  be.  Stand  high,  and  remember  that  manhood  is  better  than 
any  of  the  sections  into  which  it  is  broken  up. 

6.  Beware  of  the  narrowness  of  professional  character,  which 
will  be  your  temptation.  For,  although  there  is  a  pride  of  profes 
sion — an  esprit  de  corps — that  is  wise,  and  may  be  turned  to  ac- 
count, yet  the  pride  and  vanity  of  men  tend  always  to  spoil  every 
thing,  and  the  advantages  go  but  little  way,  and  soon  give  place  to 
disadvantages  which  are  most  harmful,  most  hurtful.     For  no  pro- 

-     fession   has  so  many  claims   ui^on   a   man   as   mankind    has.      N'o 
/man  can  afford  to  live  for  his  profession,  and  in  his  profession.     No 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  249 

man  can  afforcl,  by  the  side  of  the  sounding  sea,  to  build  his 
hut  on  a  little  rivulet  that  runs  into  it,  and  never  go  down  to  wet  his 
feet  in  the  flood,  or  try  its  depths.  Good  as  any  profession  is,  you 
Avill  be  obliged,  in  the  order  of  business,  to  live  in  it  as  much  as  is  use- 
ful. Ministers  ought  not  to  be  too  much  witli  ministers.  They  should 
go  out  among  other  men.  Lawyers  ought  not  to  consort  only  with 
lawyers.  They  should  go  beyond  their  own  class.  Soldiers  should 
seek  civil  society.  Teachers,  dealers  in  ideas,  should  dwell  more  with 
men  that  deal  in  wares ;  and  men  that  deal  in  wares  should  aspire  to 
the  company  of  men  that  deal  in  ideas.  Men  need  mixing.  Men  need  ■~- 
to  feel  a  sympathy  with  the  whole  of  human  life. 

Therefore,  remember  that  you  are  not  to  be  educated  out  from 
among  your  fellow  men,  but  for  them.     No  man  belongs  to  those  who  ) 
are  below  him,  so  much  as  the  refined,  educated  and  powerful.     By  as  ^ 
much  as  you  surpass  a  man,  you  become  his  servant.  "  He  that  would 
be  chief  among  you,  let  him  be  the  slave  of  all,"  said  the  apostle. 

But  the  time  is  already  sped,  and  I  will  bring  speedily  to  a  close 
these  remai'ks,  by  which  I  would  fxin  urge  you  to  a  larger,  a  purer, 
a  sweeter,  and  a  nobler  manhood.  Delivering  you  from  the  tempta- 
tions that  are  in  the  flesh ;  delivering  you  from  the  temptations  that 
are  in  your  own  dispositions ;  delivering  you  from  the  temptations 
that  inhere  in  the  thrall  of  labor  and  the  bondage  of  business  in  life, 
and  from  the  temptations  which  are  special  to  classes  and  professions, 
1  fain  would  incite  in  your  minds  a  higher  conception  of  manhood 
as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  Especially  have  you  such  temptations,  be- 
cause in  some  sense  there  is  a  work  given  you  as  soldiers  which  is 
given  to  no  others.  You  ought  to  be  nobler  than  most  men,  because  < 
your  work  is  vicarious.  You  labor  for  the  Government.  You  stand 
for  the  country.  It  is  for  you  to  be  the  right  hand,  the  executive 
hand,  of  the  Government  of  your  land.  You  need  not  be  cruel  be- 
cause you  are  warriors ;  for  war  may  be  but  discipline.  It  is  the 
symbol  of  justice,  of  law,  of  liberty  itself.  We  have  but  just  passed  "" 
through  a  war  which,  with  all  its  atrocities,  and  its  incidental  cruel- 
ties, and  the  horror  of  its  details,  will  be  looked  back  upon,  when  we 
have  drifted  so  far  that  we  can  see  them  in  perspective,  as  a  sub- 
lime war  for  unity,  liberty,  and  human  happiness.  And  all  its  blood- 
drops,  all  its  tears,  and  all  its  wrecks  and  desolations  will  pass  out  of 
view ;  and  no  man  can  measure  the  abundance  of  that  good  which 
will  spring  up  in  consequence  of  it.  \_r 

You  are  a  part  of  the  Government ;  and  it  behooves  you  to  repre-     / 
sent  to  men  something  better  than  common  men  do.     It  is  yours  to    / 
guard  our  flag,  which  has  now  more  to  tell  the  world  than  any  other  ^ 
flag.     Now,  thank  God,  it  is  clean.     Once  there  was  blood. on  it. 
Not  a  drop  now.     Once  the  stars  that  were  on  it  were  stars  with  a 


\ 


250  THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

i 
background  of  barbaric  slavery,  feebly  shining  out  of  midnight. 
Now  they  are  the  stars  of  hope,  the  world  over.  And  those  stripes 
that  are  upon  the  flag  are  no  longer  stripes  of  cruelty,  to  shed  blood. 
They  are  the  auroral  light  that  plays  upon  it ;  for,  as  you  bear  it  roun(? 
and  round  the  globe,  upon  the  land  or  on  the  sea,  that  flag  means  in 
telligence  and  liberty.  And  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  a  guardian 
of  it.  You  belong  to  a  profession  that  is  honored.  I  mean  not 
abroad,  though  it  is  honored  there ;  but  already  in  our  own  land  we 
have  those — and  those  too,  happily,,  that  have  sprung  from  the  loins 
of  this  venerable  school — upon  whose  names  rest  glory  and  immor- 
tality, for  their  skill,  for  their  endurance,  for  their  wise  victories,  and 
yet  more  for  their  humanity,  their  moderation,  and  their  unambitious 
patriotism.  Nor  are  any  of  the  stories  of  battles  and  sieges  and 
marches  so  sweet  and  musical  to  me,  as  is  the  story  of  the  five  chief- 
est  men  whom  this  war  has  lifted  into  conspicuity,  not  one  of  whom 
*'  is  not  the  brother  of  the  others.  Without  rivalry,  with  hands  firmly 
clasped,  unenvious  they  stand,  to  show  men  what  an  American  man 
and  an  American  oflicer  should  be.  While  Napoleon  could  scarcely 
hold  his  army  together  from  the  envies  and  jealousies  of  his  marshals, 
"  behold  how  we  are  twined  together  like  a  cord,  by  the  firm  friend- 
ships of  our  chiefest  men  that  the  war  has  brought  forth,  and  that 
this  school  has  bred. 

My   young  friends — you  that    abide — I   beg  of  you,  take   aim 

higher  than  merely  the  aim  of  this  school.     Enlarge  your  concep- 

.    tions  of  life.     Ask  inspix'ations  above  the  text,  and  above  the  teacher, 

\  that  God  may  give  you  a  conception  of  what  it  is  to  live  for  a  truer 

,  manhood  than  any  that  you  have  hitherto  followed. 

And  ye  that  go  forth,  what  can  I  ask  better  for  you,  than  that 
your  hopes  may  be  larger,  your  ambitions  purer,  your  aims  truer, 
than  those  which,  in  your  best  hours,  when  you  stood  on  the  very 
mountain-top,  you  framed  for  yourselves  ?  May  the  blessing  of  Al- 
mighty God  go  with  you ;  and  may  the  blessings  of  Christ  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  never  depart  from  you.  Wherever  you  are,  in  burdens,  in 
ti'ials,  in  wounds,  in  sickness,  in  death  itself;  whether  among  friends, 
or  in  the  wilderness  far  away,  and  among  savage  foes,  or  departing 
in  the  thunder  of  the  earnest  battle,  may  you  never  lack  company. 
May  He  who  loved  your  father  and  your  mother,  may  he  who  has 
guided  your  steps  in  all  the  days  of  your  lives,  never  forsake  you  in 
the  hour  of  anguish  and  trial.  And  from  an  earthly  manhood,  grow- 
ing more  large  and  resplendent,  may  there  be  reached  out  to  you 
that  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus  which  shall  be  perfected  only  in  the 
heavenly  land. 


L_._. 


THE  PERFECT  MANHOOD.  251 


PRATER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Almighty  God,  our  Heavenly  Fatlier,  we  draw  near  to  tliee  no  longer  outcasts 
disowned,  but  restored  in  Jesus  Clirist  to  our  Father's  household,  and  made  sons 
again.  Not  for  us  the  husks  which  the  swine  did  eat ;  not  for  us  to  be  servants  :  for 
us  the  ring,  and  the  robe,  and  the  Father's  embrace  ;  for  us  the  fatted  calf,  and  the 
joyous  welcome  of  the  whole  household.  We  are  brought  back  again  to  the  Shep- 
herd and  the  Bishop  of  our  souls.  We  are  restored  to  thy  love,  and  to  the  recog- 
nition of  that  love.  Thy  power — how  wondroiis  is  it !  Not  all  the  sunlight  that 
falls  through  the  air  upon  the  wide  continent  to-day  is  enough  to  be  the  symbol 
of  that  love  and  that  power  which  are  shed  forth  from  thee.  Thou,  whose  throne  is  in 
heaven,  art  everywhere  touching  the  springs  of  joy  throughout  the  realm  of  the 
universe.  Thou  art  everywhere  blessed  and  blessing.  Everywhere  joyous  art 
thou,  because  thou  art  creating  joy.  Thou  art  everywhere  making  pain  thy 
minister,  and  teaching  men  right  and  justice  ;  teaching  them  obedience  ;  teaching 
them  patience  and  greatness  of  soul,  by  lliings  suffered.  Thou  art  everywhere, 
by  joy  and  suffering,  preparing  for  joys  yet  greater.  We  thank  thee  that  by  the 
suffering  of  our  Lord  and  Master  so  much  hath  come  upon  the  world  of  blessing. 
And  we  do  not  desire  to  be  called  his  disciples,  because  outwardly  we  are  gather- 
ed  with  those  that  are  named  Christ's,  but  we  desire  to  have  the  same  aspiration, 
the  same  holiness,  the  same  love  fertile  in  all  goodness.  We  desire  to  shrink  from 
nothing,  to  bear  the  burdens  that  are  needful  to  our  manhood,  to  stand  between 
the  weak  and  those  that  would  hurt  them,  to  bear  their  sins  and  carry  their  sor- 
rows who  are  less  than  we,  and,  as  thou  wert  a  Saviour,  also  to  be  saviours  in  our 
way,  and  according  to  our  sphere  and  strength.  Thou  didst  stand  between  us 
and  the  burning  sun  of  destruction  ;  thou,  0  Jesus  !  wert  mightier  than  man  can 
be  ;  yet  we  are  to  walk  in  thy  footsteps,  and  are,  according  to  the  measure  of  our 
power,  to  imitate  thee.  Grant  that  we  may  do  it,  bearing  one  another's  burdens  ; 
in  honor  preferring  one  another ;  loving  our  neighbors  as  ourselves  ;  disowning 
pride  and  arrogance ;  disowning  vanity,  and  selfishness,  and  greediness ;  disowning 
all  willfulndfes  of  the  flesh.  Grant  that  we  may  pattern  after  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

Grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  every  heart  in  thy  presence  this  morning. 
And  if  there  be  those  that  have  unexpressed  thanks,  0  Lord  !  let  the  silent  desire 
be  as  mighty  words  in  thine  ear,  and  accept  their  thanksgiving.  If  there  are 
those  whose  hearts  are  burdened  with  gratitude,  who  look  back  upon  the  way 
in  which  God  has  led  them — the  way  of  danger,  the  way  of  suffering,  the  way  of 
trial  and  struggle — and  who  stand  near  to  victory ;  and  if  their  hearts  swell,  let  it 
not  be  with  pride,  but  with  a  grateful  recognition  of  God's  goodness  to  them. 
Accept  the  offi^ring  of  thanks  which  they  secretly  bring  thee. 

If  there  be  those  that  are  conscious  of  imperfection,  and  weighed  down  with 
a  sense  of  sin  yet  mighty  in  them,  and  that  yearn  both  for  forgiveness  and  for 
divine  strength  in  days  to  come,  0  Lord !  forgive  and  inspire  them. 

If  there  be  those  this  day  whose  memories  go  to  dear  ones  far  from  them,  and 
whose  hearts  rise  up  before  thee,  sanctify  their  affections.  And  bless  those  whom 
memory  would  bless.  Draw  near  now  in  this  sacred  hour  of  faith,  and  gather  all 
whom  we  love  from  every  whither — from  the  sea,  and  from  foreign  lands,  and  from 
distant  places  in  our  own  land  ;  and  here,  united  in  spirit,  for  the  hour,  may  they 
dwell  together  with  us  in  faith. 

We  beseech  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  every  one  in  this  institution  thy  divine 
presence  and  blessing.    Remember  all  that  are  in  office  here.     And  grant  that  as 


252  TEE  PERFECT  MANHOOD. 

tliey  guide  and  teach  otliers,  tliey  tliemaelves  may  be  guided  and  taught  of  God 
And  bless  all  that  are  instructed.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  -^-ilt  be  with 
them,  that  they  maybe  built  up  into  manhood  indeed.  Prepare  them  for  the  ser- 
vice which  awaits  them — for  the  high  positions  for  which  they  are  appointed. 
And  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord !  that  they  may  be  men  of  faith,  of  purity,  of  in- 
tegrity, of  true  Christian  fervor  and  true  Christian  power,  and  go  forth  every- 
where to  set  an  example,  not  alone  of  skill  and  knowledge,  but  of  manhood. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  be  pleased  to  bless  all  the  families  that 
are  grouped  together  here — the  little  ones,  the  servants,  and  all  that  are  in  places 
of  trust  and  responsibility,  or  labor,  or  care.  And  may  those  that  need  most  be 
most  remembered  of  God.  Be  with  all  that  are  sick,  and  all  that  are  poor,  and  all 
that  are  distressed,  and  all  that  need  thee.  Especially  if  they  do  not  know  how 
to  call  unto  thee,  go  to  them.  O  thou  blessed  God  of  mercy !  seek  out  those  that 
seek  thee  not,  and  bless  those  that  repay  only  with  curses  thy  ble^ings.  Grant 
that  they  may  all  have  a  better  mind. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  be  pleased  to  bless  this  land  in  which  we  dwell. 
Accept  our  thanks  for  all  the  great  and  sparing  mercies  which  thou  hast 
vouchsafed  to  it.  We  pray  that  all  these  States  may  dwell  together  in  fraternal 
union  and  brotherhood. 

Bless  the  President  of  these  United  States,  and  grant  that  his  life  and  his 
health  may  be  precious  in  thy  sight.  And  in  all  those  duties  to  which  thou  hast 
now  appointed  him,  grant  that  he  may  have  sufficiency  ministered  unto  him, 
and  that  he  may  be  wise,  temperate,  sagacious,  fearing  God  and  regarding  men. 
Crown,  w-e  beseech  of  thee,  his  labors  with  divine  blessings.  And  remember  all 
that  are  in  office  with  him. 

Bless  the  government  of  the  United  States,  and  the  governments  of  the  several 
States.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  purify  our  magistrates.  Eestore  to  us  our 
judges  again,  as  at  the  first,  and  our  magistrates  as  from  the  beginning.  And 
may  we  have  a  God-fearing  people.  May  this  great  nation  be  proud,  not  of  its 
outward  wealth,  and  material  strength,  but  of  virtue,  and  religion,  and  true  piety. 

Bless  the  nations  of  the  earth.  May  those  that  struggle  for  the  right  to  be 
have  thee  on  their  side.  Strengthen  the  weak  against  the  strong  May  the 
ignorant  be  no  longer  oppressed  by  superstition.  May  the  bonds  and  prisons, 
the  wars  and  oppressions,  the  vice  and  crime  and  wrong  that  have  afflicted  and 
scourged  the  earth,  at  last,  like  the  storms  of  night,  begin  to  pass  away.  And  as 
the  sun  cometh  in  the  morning,  arise,  0  Sun  of  Righteousness !  with  healing  in 
thy  beams.  And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit  shall  be  praises  everlast- 
ing.   Amen. 


XV. 

Dissimulating  Love. 


DISSIMULATING   LOYE. 


SUNDAY  MORNING,  JUNE  30,  1869. 


"  Let  love  be  witliout  dissimulation." — Rom.  xii.  9. 


If  disinterestedness  is  anywhere  to  be  looked  for,  it  is  in  this  great 
central  affection  of  love.  If  there  be  any  feeling  in  the  soul  incapable 
of  being  mercenary,  it  is  this.  Many  of  our  ficulties  are  known  to  be 
venal.  They  are  easily  tempted.  They,  indeed,  are  in  the  market.  We 
are  not  surprised  to  be  cautioned,  therefore,  against  unworthy  devices 
of  ambition  ;  against  the  tricks  of  vanity,  and  its  deceits ;  against  the 
various  weaknesses  which  beset  our  motives.  But  one  can  hardly  re- 
press astonishment  at  the  implication  that  love  has  ever  made  traific  of 
itself  That  love  has  ever  been  prostituted ;  that  love  deceives,  and  is 
a  dissembler ;  that  this  most  princely  of  all  the  soul's  attributes  is, 
after  all,  bribable,  will  strike  some  almost  with  alarm,  as  if  nothing 
could  be  pure,  and  nothing  trustworthy,  in  man.  For,  if  there  be  any 
thing  that  we  have  been  accustomed  to  trust  more  than  anothei- — more 
than  reason,  more  than  conscience,  which  may  be  under  false  advi- 
sers— it  is  love,  which  is  said  to  be  not  only  pure,  but  a  purifier ;  to 
be  not  only  true,  but  an  enlightener  of  the  soul.  And  yet,  the  impli- 
cation, "  Let  love  be  without  dissimulation,"  sounds  out.  So  uncon- 
scious are  we  of  the  secrets  of  the  life  of  the  soul,  that  we  shall  be 
very  apt  to  think  that  the  apostle  must  have  had  his  eye  upon  the 
corrupt  cities  of  antiquity,  and  that  this  exhortation  is  to  be  referred 
to  the  times  of  Nero,  and  to  such  morals  as  ruled  in  Corinth.  I  do 
not  doubt  that  to  a  certain  extent  this  consciousness  of  a  good  intent 
in  loving  is  founded  in  truth  ;  but  I  have  as  little  doubt  that  all  of  us, 
upon  a  strict  examination,  will  find  enough  laxity  and  impropriety  in 
the  use  and  exercise  of  love,  to  induce  carefulness,  and  humility,  and 
repentance,  and,  hereafter,  a  godly  watchfulness. 

The  principle  of  love  is  seldom  educated  and  disciplined  in  man. 
It  is  left  as  a  seedling,  not  grafted,  and  is  suffered  to  bear  sucli  fruit 
as  it  will.     Men  are  taught  how  to  employ  every  other  pai't  of  them- 

Lesson  :  1  Cor.  xu.  2»-31 ;  xiii.  1-13.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  40,  510,  768. 


254  DISSIMULATING   LOVE. 

selves  by  a  sedulous  discipline.  They  are  taught  how  to  use  their 
intellectual  powers  by  long  and  various  schooling  through  different 
channels,  through  various  sciences,  through  various  studies  of  lan- 
guage and  dialectic  arts.  Every  part,  every  power,  is  dis<iiplined, 
that  men  may  know  how  finely,  acutely,  strongly,  dexterously,  in 
combination  or  singly,  to  use  the  whole  intellectual  apparatus.  The 
art  of  using  the  reason  is  made  the  study  and  practice  of  a  life.  The 
processes  are  analyzed.  The  weaknesses  are  built  up.  The  illusions 
are  noted.  The  products  are  tested  and  sorted. '  And  the  same  care, 
with  even  finer  application,  is  applied  to  the  imagination.  We  culti- 
vate the  imagination  and  the  taste.  In  art,  in  literature,  we  drill  men 
to  a  knowledge  of  good  taste. 

Even  more  obviously,  men  are  drilled  in  conduct ;  in  the  use  of 
bodily  organs ;  in  good  manners ;  in  grace  of  motion  ;  in  dignity  of 
posture  ;  in  pace  and  carriage. 

But  while  we  thus  educate  the  reason,  the  imagination,  and  the 
body,  very  little  education  is  ever  bestowed  upon  the  moral  senti- 
ments. We  give  them  instruction,  but  we  do  not  train  them. 
Training  is  teaching  how  to  use  knowledge.  Instruction  is  know- 
ledge. Training  is  reducing  it  to  practical  form.  And  our  higher 
moral  sentiments  have  very  little  training.  If  we  except  conscience, 
I  apprehend  that  very  little  efibrt  is  made  at  the  education  of  these 
sentiments.  They  are  left  to  the  general  inspiration  of  preaching ; 
to  the  ordinary  course  of  truth.  Love  is  left  to  its  way,  for  the 
most  part.  Indeed,  there  are  many  who  deem  it  a  thing  most  dan- 
gerous to  meddle  with  ;  and  children  are  brought  up  without  the 
mention  of  the  word  in  many  families.  The  thing  itself  is  kept 
shamefaced.  Parents  and  teachers  leave  love  to  the  romantic  cli- 
max, when  it  is  allowed  to  burst  into  blossom  like  some  vine  in  the 
underwood,  and  then  to  clamber,  at  its  own  sweet  will,  over  what- 
ever thing  it  meets,  be  it  tree  or  shrub,  stone  or  rotten  trunk. 

Men  think  that  the  thing  is  too  fieiy  to  be  handled  beforehand  ; 
that  there  is  danger  of  inflammation  in  young  minds.  As  if  teaching 
were  not  the  very  way  to  extract  the  unruly  element !  Love  is  re- 
garded as  the  soul's  powder-house,  to  be  kept  shut  up  until  the  day  of 
action;  and  neither  teacher  nor . improvement  allows  itself  to  enter 
there  with  torch  or  lamp. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  in  the  day  of  trial  the  affection  is  wild 
or  wanton,  overmeasuring  or  undermeasuring.  No  wonder  that 
when  brought  into  the  conflict  of  life,  and  sorely  tempted,  it  is 
easily  seduced.  No  wonder  that  it  is  left  to  its  own  force,  as  if 
it  were  an  inexhaustible  fountain,  filling  from  its  endless  stores  the 
whole  river  of  life.  No  wonder  that,  so  left,  it  soon  dries  up, 
and  sometimes  falls  back  upon  its  source  in  disgust,  or  disappears 


DISSIMULATINa   LOVE.  255 

and  throws  itself  away,  as  if  it  were  of  all  life's  cheats  the  most  cun- 
ning but  desperate  of  decej)tions.  Or,  no  wonder  that  it  settles  down 
to  a  low  and  weakly  growth,  like  grass  much  trampled  upon,  in  the 
highway. 

The  crudeness  and  wildness  of  the  human  soul  is  more  to  be 
seen  in  the  condition  of  its  nobler  affections  than  in  its  passions. 
For  the  passions  of  men  are  nearer  perfect,  in  their  way,  better 
educated,  more  full  of  power,  versatility,  and  savage  beauty,  than  are 
the  spiritual  sentiments  of  the  soul.  The  least  cared  for,  the  least 
educated,  the  least  develoi^ed,  are  our  higher  sentiments.  But  this 
grandest  element  of  the  soul,  in  which  God  is  most  nearly  shown,  is 
not  a  thing  to  which  education  is  impossible. 

Love  may  be  taught  as  well  as  inspired.  It  may  be  made  to  ally 
itself  upward,  not  downward;  to  choose  for  itself,  and  to  require  in 
its  choices  the  companionship  of  reason  and  the  noblest  moral  sen- 
timents. It  may  be  taught  honor  as  well  as  purity.  It  may  be 
taught  variety,  grace,  constancy,  disinterestedness,  beauty,  nobility, 
divinity.  ' 

It  is  largely  because  this  Eden  of  the  soul  is  left  to  itself  that 
temptation  overleaps  the  walls,  and  soon  j^erverts  its  innocence,  and. 
adulterates  the  purity  of  its  primitive  condition.  Little  by  little, 
love  grows  worldly,  first  in  small  things,  and  then  in  larger ;  at  first 
occasionally,  and  then  more  frequently,  and  at  last  habitually.  It  first 
uses  itself  as  a  lure,  as  a  bait.  By  and  by  it  is  a  traffic  of  life.  It 
grows  w^orldly-wise,  and  mixes  selfishness  with  fidelity.  It  grows 
cunning,  and  finds  that  there  is  a  good  market  for  smiles,  and  for 
favor,  and  for  grace,  and  for  smoothness  of  friendship.  It  resorts  to 
the  use  of  these  wiles,  and  engineers  its  way  to  ambition,  to  profit, 
and  to  pleasure,  by  the  barter  and  sale  of  the  holiest  affections. 

Think  not  that  I  am  now  describing  the  soft  ways  of  vice.  I  am 
speaking  exclusively,  and  shall  exclusively  speak,  of  the  faults,  of 
the  venal  tendencies,  of  love  among  those  who  are  respectable — among 
the  best  in  the  best  circles  of  life. 

1.  Love  dissimulates  whenever  it  expressess  more  than  it  feels, 
and  fpr  an  interested  purpose.  It  dissimulates  whenever  it  lacks 
equity  in  exhibition ;  whenever  it  does  not  confine  itself  within  the 
channels  of  strict  truth ;  whenever,  for  a  purpose,  it  exaggerates,  and 
overleaps  the  bounds  of  expression.  This  is  a  common  device  of 
the  petty  inside  life  of  the  household,  where  love  in  the  main  is  true, 
and  where  its  influences  in  the  main  are  sincere.  It  is  tempted,  and 
not  without  yielding,  to  use  itself  as  a  rod  of  discipline,  or  as  the  in- 
strument, the  key,  the  sword,  the  word,  the  enchanter's  sorcery,  by 
which  to  attain  a  purpose.  "We  give  the  general  name  of  blandish- 
tnent  to  all  this  mode  of  using  love.     It  is  the  use  of  the  voice,  of 


256  btssimulaTing  love. 

the  eye,  and  of  the  hand  of  love,  while  the  heart  is  seeking  a  selfish 
end.     The  hands  are  the  hands  of  Esau ;  the  voice  is  Jacob's. 

The  gentle  and  unstudied  Avays  of  j)ure  and  simple  love  have 
nothing  in  the  world  to  equal  them.  The  caresses  of  simple  child- 
hood ;  love  among  children  in  their  sunshiny  hours ;  parental  tones 
of  fondness ;  the  ten  thousand  scenes  of  the  nursery  and  of  the 
kitchen,  in  the  plain  and  homely  households  of  our  land  among 
working-men ;  the  timid  glances  of  faithful  love,  like  flowers  fallen 
down  from  heaven  ;  the  beginnings  of  mature  love — all  these  are 
among  the  noblest  things  which  poets  can  sing ;  the  noblest  things 
which  the  heart  can  picture  ;  the  noblest  things  which  men  can  con- 
template. There  is  no  occasion  for  us  to  look  upon  these  things 
shamefacedly.  The  hour  of  love  is  the  hour  of  heaven,  if  it  be 
pure  love ;  if  its  purpose  be  pure. 

But  because  these  things  are  beautiful,  they  are  counterfeited' 
They  are  used  for  purposes.  The  wife  wduld  foin  stay  the  anger  of 
the  husband,  and  she  throws  upon  him  an  affection  that  she  does 
not  at  all  feel.  He  would  fxin  charm  away  her  jealousy  Tby  a  sedu- 
lousness  and  affectionateness  of  demeanor  that  has  only  a  purpose 
in  it,  and  not  a  heart.  She  would  subdue  his  obstinacy,  and  she 
throws  round  about  him  the  arms  of  sweet  caress,  not  because  she 
is  drawn  really  by  the  need  of  her  heart,  nor  by  the  beauty  which 
she  sees  in  him,  but  because  she  has  the  purpose  of  changing  his  will 
and  gaining  her  end.  She  would  unlock  the  stingy  hand  that  hoards, 
and  she  laughs,  and  sings,  and  sweetly  charms,  and  uses  love  as  a 
bait  and  a  barter.  She  would  unlock  the  gardens  of  pleasure  ;  and 
the  wicked  is  made  blessed.  The  very  shrew  takes  music  into  her 
voice.  The  fiery-eyed  vixen  becomes  soft  and  gentle  as  a  dove. 
And  the  man  thinks  there  is  reformation  in  the  household,  and  that 
nothing  is  too  good  for  such  love.  But  it  was  all  a  price  paid  to 
gain  pleasure. 

Is  there  no  occasion,  under  such  circumstances,  to  say,  "  Let  love 
be  without  dissimulation"  ?  If  you  would  barter  any  thing,  let  it 
not  be  the  heart  of  God  in  man.  And  yet  how  much  there  is  of 
this  unconsciously  going  on  !  How  much  is  there  of  it  that  hovers 
on  the  edge  of  design  and  deceit !  How  we  love  what  are  called  the 
idles  of  love  ;  what  are  called  the  playful  arts  of  love !  I  love  the 
sturdy  honesty,  I  love  the  simplicity,  I  love  the  truthfulness  of 
love ;  and  I  abhor  the  arts  and  wiles  and  gayeties  of  love,  that  mean 
something  other  than  they  express — that  are  mere  baits  for  pleasure, 
or  for  self-will,  or  for  some  interest  and  purpose. 

2.  The  active  appearances  of  friendship  are  employed  in  social 
life,  as  oil  is  in  machinery,  to  reduce  the  friction  of  life,  and  so  to  in- 
crease pleasure.     Men  are  a  thousand  times  more  friendly  than  the 


DISSIMULATma   LOVE.  25-7 

capital  of  friendship  will  allow.  Men  express  more  friendship  than 
they  feel.  They  behave  to  each  other  in  a  manner  which  can  not  be 
considered  other  than  as  deceptive — deceptive  even  where  it  is  a 
good-natured  habit ;  but  still  more  deceptive  where  it  has  an  end  in 
view,  as  constantly  it  has. 

I  do  not  refer  to  that  general  kindness  which  we  ought  to  express 
toward  all.  Cheerfulness,  good-will,  and  ordinary  kindness  should 
be  universal.  It  does  not  follow  that  you  should  say  to  every  man 
just  what  you  think  of  him.  It  does  not  follow,  because  you  be- 
lieve a  man  not  to  be  lovely,  that  you  should  treat  him  as  if  he  Avere 
a  brute.  God  makes  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust. 
The  serpent  warms  himself  in  the  morning  as  really  as  the  lamb. 
God's  benevolence  should  be  the  pattern  of  ours.  "  Be  ye,  therefore, 
perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect."  Divine 
perfection  is  the  pei'fection  of  a  being  that  shows  kindliness  to 
every  thing ;  and  we  are  to  go  into  society,  not  as  judges,  not  as 
censors,  and  critics,  and  condemners,  and  j^unishers,  in  order  to  main- 
tain our  honor  and  simplicity,  as  many  peoj)le  think  we  are  to  do. 
Am  I  obliged  to  tell  every  man  I  meet  what  I  think  of  him  ?  Am 
I  obliged  to  tell  every  man  that  I  converse  with  all  my  opinion 
of  him  ?  The  law  of  kindness  should  check  that  rash  frankness. 
General  good-will  you  owe  to  every  body.  Beyond  that  you  have 
no  right  to  make  traffic  of  friendship.  I  do  not  criticise  that  eti- 
quette, that  general  consideration  for  the  comfort  of  every  body, 
that  kindly  way,  which  real  high  breeding  always  inspires.  That 
is  right.  It  is  not  insincere.  It  comports  with  the  highest  rea- 
son and  with  the  noblest  honesty  in  moral  things.  But  there  is  a 
use  made  of  friendly  ways  far  beyond  this.  You  shall  see  in  society 
a  flattering  intensity  of  favor.  You  shall  see  a  surprise  and  an  over- 
flowing joy  in  the  countenance.  You  shall  see  the  whole  carriage 
of  a  man  change,  and  you  shall  see  him  addressing  himself  to  one 
whom  he  fain  would  win,  far  beyond  the  friendship  that  he  actually 
feels.  The  host  should  be  glad  to  greet  every  guest ;  but  what  if  he 
stand  saying  to  each  one  of  a  hundred  those  flattering  things  which 
leave  the  conviction  in  the  mind  of  each  that  he  chiefly,  of  all  .the 
crowd,  had  been  desired  as  the  guest  ?  What  if  he  should  impress 
upon  every  man  the  feeling  that  he  had  the  first  place  in  the  heart 
of  his  host?  And  yet,  it  is  considered  eminent  polish  and  eminent  at- 
tainment in  the  world,  to  make  every  man  that  you  meet  think  that 
you  have  more  regard  for  him  than  for  any  body  else.  It  is  thought 
to  be  a  very  considerable  attainment.  It  is  a  very  devilish  attain- 
ment !  It  is  of  the  devil.  Because  it  uses  the  silken  fibres  of  love, 
it  is  all  the  worse.  For  the  higher  the  feeling  with  which  you  sin, 
the  more  shameful  is  the  sin.    The  artful  addresses  Avhich  are  con- 


258  BissiMULATma  love. 

tinually  made  to  the  weaknesses  of  man,  as  if  they  were  virtiies — • 
that  studious,  shrewd,  subtle  flattery,  the  flattery  of  silence ;  the 
flattery  of  surprise ;  the  flattery  of  a  well-timed  start ;  the  flattery 
of  an  interjection  ;  the  flattery  of  "  Oh  !  Ah  !"  the  flattery  of  titles 
and  terms ;  the  thousand  ways  in  which  men  attempt  to  make  their 
fellow-men  feel  happy  and  kindly  toward  them — all  these  need  to 
study,  night  and  day,  the  apostolic  injunction,  "  Let  love  be  without 
dissimulation."  It  is  not  honest.  Although  there  may  be  a  half- 
consciousness  in  the  victim  that  all  this  is  feigned,  yet  it  is  too  sweet 
to  be  refused,  and  he  is  damaged  by  it  as  much  as  the  j^erson  that  uses 
it.  As  one,  in  the  early  morning,  finds  himself  moving  out  of  a 
rare  and  sweet  dream  toward  waking,  and  would  fain  hold  on  to 
sleej),  and  the  precious  dream,  and  resents  the  waking ;  so  do  men 
reluctantly  come  forth  from  the  cloud  of  incense  which  society  burns 
to  vanity  for  the  sake  of  pleasure. 

It  may  perhaps  be  proper,  here,  to  give  some  word  or  hint  upon 
the  motive  of  praise,  and  compliment,  and  flattery.  Praise  is  right. 
It  is  the  expression  of  our  complacency  in  the  well-doing,  or  well- 
being  of  any  person.  So  that  it  measui'es  itself,  or  intends  to  measure 
itself,  by  truth  and  justice,  it  is  not  wrong.  By  compliment  we 
mean  simply  incidental  praise.  Praise,  elegantly  termed  compliment^ 
signifies  the  quality  of  art  in  the  matter  of  praise.  For,  when  one 
is  praised  in  the  ordinary  manner,  we  never  say,  "He  is  com- 
plimented f  we  say,  "He  is  praisedP  That  is  right,  if  he  is 
praised  with  discretion.  But  when  one  is  praised  by  a  nice  turn  of 
language,  by  a  figure  or  a  phi-ase,  by  some  unexpected  and  elegant  ex- 
pression, we  call  it  a  compliment.  A  compliment  is  just  as  right  as 
praise,  provided  it  is  conformed  to  the  truth.  But  a  compliment  for 
the  sake  of  appeasing ;  a  compliment  for  the  sake  of  making  a  per- 
son good-natured ;  a  compliment  as  a  golden  coin  by  which  you  pay 
your  way  and  get  along  easier  with  a  person,  is  sinful.  It  is  not  sin- 
cere. It  is  dissembling  admiration  and  affection.  And  that  is  • 
wrong.  Flattery,  as  distinguished  from  compliment  is  the  indiscrimi- 
nate praising  of  one  for  a  sinister  purpose.  It  is  not  true.  It  has 
no  regard  to  metes  and  bounds.  It  is  an  elaborate  praising  of  one 
for  some  selfish  purpose  of  your  own,  special  or  general,  that  con- 
stitutes flatter^'.  It  is  about  the  meanest  vice  that  one  can  fall  into. 
All  these  come  under  this  designation,  Dissimulation  of  love.  They 
are  all  of  them  more  or  less  remotely  connected  Avith  it. 

3.  This  dissembling  some  of  the  phases  of  love  is  a  lure  which 
both  men  and  women  employ  for  the  promotion  of  their  pleasure  in 
life  ;  for  the  flattery  of  their  own  self-love.  It  is  a  common  trick  of 
life,  to  inspire  those  about  you  with  an  inordinate  opinion  of  their 
worth  in  your  eyes.     In  a  thousand  graceful  ways  the  coquette  of 


DISSIMULATING   LOVE.  259 

either  sex  inspires  the  victim  with  the  faith  of  esteem,  of  adiniratioa, 
and  even  of  dawning  love.  Coquettes,  in  either  sense,  are  alike  de- 
spicable. They  are  seeking  to  draw  round  about  them  admirers  and 
followers,  that  they  may  receive  their  incense — the  excitement  of 
their  compliment  and  flattery  ;  that  they  may  sit  in  the  warmth  of 
their  sweet  love.  If  the  lure  succeed,  they  sit  regent  among  ad- 
mirers, and,  like  a  god,  snuff  the  incense  that  is  offered  to  their  van- 
ity. To  all  such  the  apostle's  injunction  should  come  most  solemnly 
and  warningly,  ■"  Let  love  be  without  dissimulation." 

4.  There  is  a  loathsome  pai-asite  which  fastens  on  men  and  upon 
families.  Parasites  abound  every whei*e.  Insects  feed  on  insects. 
Vegetables  feed  on  vegetables.  And  there  are  parasites  in  the  hu- 
man race  as  well  as  in  the  animal  kingdom,  and  in  the  vegetable  tribes. 
I  know  of  no  name  that  conveys  the  loathsomeness  of  this  class  bet- 
ter than  the  common  name  of  toady.  It  is  the  business  of  such  de- 
spicable creatures,  that  have  crawled  into  the  household,  to  suck  out 
their  own  living  by  assuming  all  the  airs  and  practicing  all  the 
blandishments  of  a  true,  admiring  friendship.  They  are  full  of 
starts  of  admiration.  They  are  full  of  subtle  perceptions  of  unex- 
pected goodness  in  you.  They  praise  your  Avords.  They  take  your 
side  in  every  quarrel.  They  praise  your  going  out  and  coming  in. 
They  perpetually  interpret  you  to  yourself.  They  are  a  false 
mirror  in  which  you  are  handsomer  and  more  beautiful  and  more 
graceful  than  you  are  really  by  nature.  If  one  were  so  weak  as  to 
admire  eveiy  body  and  every  thing,  it  would  be  a  weakness  on  the 
border  of  sin;  but  to  do  this  for  a  mere  purpose  ;  to  do  it  for  one's 
own  personal  thrift;  to  despise  the  man  that  you  pet  andj^raise  and 
flatter;  to  despise,  with  bitterness,  even,  the  members  of  the  house- 
hold that  you  smear  with  your  oily  tongue — ttis  is  to  be  infernal. 

There  are  a  great  many  handsome  devils  in  this  world.  The 
devil  is  said  to  be  horned  and  hoofed  and  made  hideous ;  but  he  is  the 
least  homely  of  any  creature  that  walks  on  the  earth.  He  becomes 
an  angel  of  light.  And  having  tried  it  once,  he  likes  the  guise,  and 
continues  to  enshrine  himself  in  beauty  a  thousand  times  more  than 
he  does  in  homeliness. 

Such  persons  are  obsequious,  supple,  oily,  cunning,  complaisant, 
and  unprincipled.  They  stop  at  no  falseness.  They  coin  pretenses. 
They  wear  all  the  habiliments  of  affection  only  to  soil  them.  They 
are  the  bloodsuckers  of  the  heart.  .And  I  need  not  say,  as  applied  to 
such,  the  apostolic  injunction  is  terribly  pointed,  "  Let  love  be  with- 
out dissimulation." 

5.  But  let  us  look  into  the  world  of  business.  Drawing  aside  from 
the  household  and  domestic  scenes,  let  us  see  how  systematically 
love  is  an  article  of  traffic  and  an  instrument  of  self-interest.     See 


260  DISSIMULATING   LOVK 

the  cunning  confidential  clerk,  or  the  still  more  confidential  lawyer^ 
that  nestles  under  the  wing  of  the  rich  principal.  See  how  in  every- 
thing he  praises  him.  See  how  he  seeks  his  favor ;  how  he  avoids 
his  anger;  how  he  subordinates  and  cripples  every  element  of  man- 
hood in  himself,  that  he  may  still  lie  close  to  the  favor  of  his  rich 
patron — and  all  for  his  own  sake.  Have  you  never  seen  siich  crea- 
tures ?  Are  there  no  men  that  are  toadies  for  gold,  sacrificing  every 
element  of  independence  in  manhood,  for  the  sake  of  by  and  by  being 
able  to  retire  on  an  ample  property  ?  Do  you  not  find  them  haunt- 
ino-  banks  ?  Do  you  not  find  them  whispering  in  the  ears  of  direc- 
tors and  boards  of  managers  ?  Society  is  full  of  them.  They  are  des- 
picable. But  are  there  many  men  that  do  business  who  are  above 
the  weakness  and  the  crime  of  using  love  as  a  dissembling  element? 

Tidings  comes  of  the  failure  of  a  firm.  Large  debts  are  owed; 
and  your  establishment  is  among  those  to  which  the  most  is  due. 
How  instantly  do  you  run  to  the  man's  side  !  With  what  good 
nature,  with  what  sympathy,  you  talk  of  his  affairs  !  How  you  as- 
sure him  of  your  confidence !  How  you  praise  his  good  mamage- 
ment !  How  it  was  all,  doubtless,  beyond  a  peradventure,  what  he 
could  not  have  helped !  How  do  you  bring  him  into  the  utmost 
good  humor  !  And  then,  how  do  you  wile  out  of  him  a  settle- 
ment by  which  you  make  yourself  safe,  and  leave  the  other  cred- 
itors in  the  lurch,  to  help  themselves  as  best  they  may!  And 
yet,  a  man  will  hear  me  on  the  Sabbath  day  make  applications 
of  this  tei-rible  exhortation,  "  Let  love  be  without  dissimulation," 
and  when  I  apply  it  to  woman,  he  will  say,  "  Just  like  the  .sex. 
They  are  all  flatterers."  But  when  I  say  that  a  merchant  will  put 
on  all  the  airs  of  a  toady  and  a  flatterer  and  a  parasite  in  order  that 
he  may  manage  a  rebellious  creditor,  6r  save  a  large  debt,  or  prepare 
the  way  for  a  great  success,  is  it  not  true  ?  Are  you  not  witnesses 
that  in  business  men  do  clothe  themselves  with  all  the  appearances  of 
favor,  of  cheerful  good  nature,  of  the  utmost  confidence,  of  friendli- 
ness, yea  of  almost  embracing  love,  for  business  purposes? 

Ah  !  not  that  alone.  Has  a  man  come  down  to  the  city  ?  Is  he 
plentifully  loaded ?  Is  he  to  make  large  purchases?  Perhaps  he  is 
an  Indian  trader.  Perhaps  he  is  some  speculator.  Perhaps  he 
is  a  man  from  abroad  Avho  is  loading  down  one  or  two  ships 
to  send  home.  The  one  who  gets  that  man  gets  a  phon !  And 
straightway  is  any  thing  too.  good  for  him?  What  are  his 
vices  ?  His  clerk  must  feed  them.  What  are  his  weaknesses  ? 
Somebody  must  attend  to  them.  At  home  is  a  true,  and  pure, 
and  noble-hearted  wife;  but,  "My  dear,  we  must  have  him  at 
our  house."  She  resents  it.  The  man's  character  is  question- 
able ;  and  the   savor  of  his  reputation  has  come  to  her.     And  to 


BISSIMULATmq  LOVE.  261 

bring  him  into  the  househohi  among  her  children — every  true  in- 
stinct of  her  nature  rises  up  against  it.  "  But,"  says  the  husband, 
"are  you  going  to  stand  in  the  way  of  ray  prosperity?  My  interest 
depends  upon  our  dining  him.  Mr.  A  is  going  to  dine  him  to-morrow, 
and  Mr.  B  next  day;  and  he  must  come  to  our  house  to-day."  And 
hospitality  has  to  be  bribed,  and  friendship  dissimulated,  and  sympa- 
thy and  personal  affection  put  on ;  so  that  when  the  man  has  been 
feasted  and  patted  and  praised,  it  shall  be  easier  to  drive  a  good 
bargain  with  him.  And  when  the  whole  game  has  been  jihiyed, 
and  the  customer  is  gone,  the  man  smiles,  and  says  to  himself,  "  I 
angled  for  him.  He  was  cautious,  like  a  trout  under  a  root  ;  but  I 
threw  out  the  bait,  and  he  rose  to  it,  not  thinking  that  it  was  a  bait, 
and  I  landed  him  !" 

"  Let  love  be  without  dissimulation."  If  you  will  parcel  out  any 
thing  to  dissemble  with,  let  it  not  be  love.  Let  that,  at  least,  be 
last  invaded,  which  is  the  highest  and  best  thing  which  God  has  ever 
put  into  man. 

How  do  we  see  this  carried  out  upon  a  large  scale !  It  is  organ- 
ized. It  is  no  longer  left  to  random  operations.  How  do  you 
find  that  boards  of  direction  carry  out,  as  a  part  of  their  schemes, 
the  I'ites  of  hospitality !  How  are  legislatures  dined  and  wined ! 
How  ai'e  they  flattered  !  How  are  they  recipients  of  all  manner  of 
favors  !  How  do  men  think,  at  last,  that  they  have  become  favorites 
of  the  gods !  When  rich,  combined  capitalists  wish  to  have  some 
road,  or  some  great  contract,  or  some  great  interest  secured  to  them- 
selves, how  do  they  put  on  all  the  guises  of  sympathy  and  intense  con- 
sideration !  and  how  do  they  flatter  men !  How  do  they  spin  silver 
and  golden  webs  upon  men  that  they  laugh  at  behind  their  backs  ! 
How,  as  they  sit  over  their  council  tables,  do  they  ask,  "  What  have 
you  done  to-day  ?  How  far  have  you  led  that  man  ?  What  seems 
to  be  in  his  way  ?  What  does  he  want  more  ?"  And  another  man 
of  a  softer  nature,  another  man  more  tender  of  tongue,  and  more 
eloquent  of  lip,  is  sent  to  ply  the  reluctant  victim.  And  he  is  plied 
with  flattery  and  praise  until  at  last  the  golden  wheel  rolls  without 
a  squeak ! 

And  do  men  think  that  is  wrong  ?  It  is  said  that  "  when  a  man 
is  in  Rome  he  must  do  as  Romans  do."  And  when  a  man  is  in  hell, 
I  suppose,  he  must  do  as  the  hellions  do  !  Though  a  man  j^retends 
to  be  a  Christian,  must  he,  when  he  goes  among  men  that  fight  fire 
with  fire,  do  as  they  do  ?  If  he  goes  among  blasphemers,  must  he  blas- 
pheme ?  If  he  goes  among  Sodomites,  must  he  get  down  on  his  knees 
like  four-footed  beasts  ?  If  he  goes  among  counterfeiters  and  thieves, 
must  he  do  as  they  do  ?  Where  will  such  -a  maxim  as  this  carry 
men  ?      It   will    cany   them   to   the  judgment-day   and   perdition. 


262  DISSIMULATING   LOVE. 

Men  who  are  called  respectable — men  who  are  respectable  in  a  thou- 
sand ways,  but  who  are  untaught  in  this  regard — because  they  find 
that  love,  when  it  is  properly  compounded,  and  propei-ly  used,  is 
one  of  the  most  potent,  active,  and  efficient  agencies  in  society,  do 
not  hesitate  to  dissemble  it. 

And  business  needs  to  hear  God  saying  to  it,  "  Let  love  be  with- 
out dissimulation."  You  have  no  right  to  employ  it  dissemblingly. 
It  is  a  monstrous  prostitution  of  it.  It  is  bribery  of  the  best  part 
of  your  nature. 

6.  See  how  the  same  thing  takes  place  in  ambition.  When  once  a 
man  is  bitten  with  the  incurable  fever  of  candidacy,  see  how  at  once, 
and  perhaps  first  of  all  things,  he  begins  to  employ  the  language, 
the  expressions,  of  strong  personal  regard  toward  every  man  that 
has  a  vote.  A  man  that  is  hunting  a  fat  oflUce,  more,  perhaps,  than 
any  other  one,  attempts  to  make  every  body  believe  that  he  is  their 
friend.  It  has  passed  into  a  proverb  that  before  election  "  condescen- 
sion to  men  of  low  estate  "  seems  to  men  to  be  the  very  fullness  of  the 
Bible.  Before  election — why,  the  man,  and  the  man's  poor  dear 
wife,  and  the  man's  darling  little  dirty  children  ;  before  election,  the 
most  begrimed  cub  of  the  stithy,  and  the  dirtiest  collier  of  the  pit, 
are  treated  like  human  beings  I  Before  election,  if  men  were  sincere, 
they  would  really  act  like  Christians !  They  "  mind  not  high  things." 
They  "  condescend  to  men  of  low  "estate."  They  esteem  every  man 
a  brother,  and  would  esteem  every  woman  a  sister,  if  she  only  had  a 
vote.  A  vote!  a  vote!  Any  thing  for  a  vote.  They  coin  their  heart 
and  their  love,  and  they  pay  them  out  everywhere.  They  use 
sympathy,  and  sentiment,  and  afiection,  merely  as  a  bribery 
to  draw  in  votes.  But  as  soon  as  the  vote  has  done  its  work, 
and  the  ofiice  is  secui'ed,  and  the  candidate  is  well  established, 
what  a  blessed  balm  of  forgetfulness  comes  over  him  !  He  really 
does  not  know  any  body  out  of  his  own  set !  The  hypocrite  !  If 
that  be  not  hypocrisy,  where  is  there  hypocrisy  on  earth  ?  We 
laugh  at  it  when  we  see  it  in  small  men ;  but  what  if  we  see  it  in 
large  men  ?  What  if  we  see  men  who  stand  eminent  using  every 
artifice  to  secure  influence  ? 

Here  is  one  of  these  men.  Some  promising  young  man  visits  the 
town.  He  is  a  rising  young  lawyer  of  the  country.  He  is  the  most 
popular  young  man  in  Albany;  or  he  is  one  of  the  finest  young  men 
in  Brooklyn.  And  this  man  says,  "  Bring  him,  and  introduce  him  to 
me."  It  is  done,  quietly,  and  the  young  man  is  made  a  good  deal  of, 
and  he  feels  flattered,  and  he  goes  home,  and  says,  "I  did  not  know 
that  I  was  of  any  consequence  in  the  world  ;  I  did  not  know  that  I 
had  been  heard  of;  but  that  man  knew  me.  He  asked  after  my  fa- 
ther and  mother."    Ah  !  if  that  man  has  not  a  defender  in  this  young 


DmsiMULATINQ   LOVE.  263 

man  now !  The  young  man  feels,  "  I  have  a  frieL.d  in  that  man.  I 
would  go  to  the  end  of  the  continent  to  serve  him.  I  hope  I  may 
live  to  vole  for  that  man  for  President."  The  young  man  is  gulled. 
His  place  is  not  cold  before  there  is  another  man  sitting  in  it,  and 
taking  the  same  sweet  soup  ! 

Has  a  young  man  made  a  speech  ?    Forthwith  comes  a  letter : 

"  Dear  Sir  :  I  have  read  with  the  utmost  enjoyment  the  senti- 
ments that  you  uttered.  Though  I  have  often  thought  the  same  things, 
I  never  could  have  so  well  expressed  them.  I  am,  with  fervent  ad- 
miration. Your  obedient  servant." 

The  young  man  says,  "  Well !  I  knew  I  was  smart ;  but  I  did  not 
suppose  I  was  a  genius."  And  oh  !  that  letter  !  He  takes  it  home, 
and  shows  it  to  his  wife.  That  letter,  from  one  of  the  foremost  men 
in  the  land !  There  is  no  place  too  good  for  it.  He  puts  it  in  the 
drawer ;  but  he  can  not  resist  going  every  now  and  then  to  see  if  it 
has  not  been  taken  out  by  accident.  That  letter  !  It  goes  to  his 
heart.  How  sweet  it  is  to  him  !  By  and  by  this  distinguished  man 
meets  him,  and  proposes  that  he  should  travel  with  him.  And  he 
takes  him  into  his  seat  in  the  cars.  And  he  leaves  the  young  man 
feeling  that  a  god  has  been  by  his  side. 

This  is  done,  not  once,  not  twice,  not  thrice ;  but  life  is  made  up 
of"  the  doing  of  such  things.  And  what  for  ?  For  the  gratification 
of  men's  ambition  to  sit  in  the  highest  places.-  And  I  ask  you,  is  it 
any  better  because  it  is  done  by  intelligence,  by  genius,  by  emi- 
nence ?  If  one  would  be  obscene,  the  higher  he  goes  to  make  an 
exhibition  of  obscenity,  the  worse  it  is  ;  and  wickedness  in  high 
places  is  a  thousand  times  more  wicked  than  wickedness  in  low. 
Ah  !  these  men  that  have  no  other  use  for  their  hearts — I  had  almost 
said,  these  fishers  of  men,  that  take  their  hearts,  and  cut  them  up  for 
bait,  and  put  them  on  angling-hooks  to  catch  men  with — how  despi- 
cable they  are ! 

I  shall  not  go  lower.  I  shall  not  go  into  the  region  of  avowed 
vice.  I  have  purposely  kept  in  the  region  of  respectability  in  so- 
ciety. I  have  not  enumerated  half  >the  ways  of  prostituting  love  to 
selfish  uses ;  but  I  have,  I  suppose,  said  enough  to  show  you  that 
there  was  need  of  this  exhortation,  and  that  there  is  still  need  of  it. 
I  have  said  enough,  I  trust,  to  put  you  upon  self  examination,  and  to 
lead  you  to  suspect  that  you  have  not  yourself  been  as  clean  and  cir- 
cumspect in  the  uses  of  love  as  you  should  have  been.  I  hope  I  have 
at  least  made  you  feel,  "  There  is  danger  in  that  direction,  and  I 
must  set  up  a  watch  there." 

In  closing,  let  me  say,  then,  that  every  man  should  be  jealous  of 
his  affection,  and  every  man  should  set  honor  as  doorkeeper   of  his 


264  DI8SIMULATIN0   LOVE. 

heart,  to  see  to  it  that  it  is  not  debased.  If  there  be  no  other  part 
of  your  nature  that  is  kept  honest,  let  love  at  least  be  honest.  If 
there  be  no. other  part  of  your  nature  that  is  true,  at  least  let  love 
be  true.  If  you  will  bring  guile  and  craft  into  the  lower  part  of 
your  nature,  if  you  are  not  strong  enough  to  rule  out  those  parts 
that  are  most  in  contact  with  the  world,  let  there  be  a  sanctuary 
somewhere,  and  let  that  be  the  affection  in  your  heart.  Let  that 
be  kei^t  pure,  undissembling.  And  as  one  grows  older,  let  him  be 
more  and  more  in  earnest  to  maintain  the  sanctity  of  love.  You  may 
build  there. 

It  is  said  that  the  oppressed  Jews — and  they  have  been  more  op- 
pressed than  any  other  people  on  the  globe — clothed  in  mean  rags, 
looking  like  poverty  and  death,  were  wont  to  drag  their  filthy  way 
home,  up  some  obscure  alley,  and  then  through  miserable  rooms,  as 
to  a  foul  nest,  opening  door  after  door ;  but  that  when  they  got  in  far 
enough  to  be  beyond  the  intrusion  of  the  police,  they  came  to  gorgeous 
apartments,  where  wealth  and  beauty  reigned  and  flamed  ;  and  that 
there  they  threw  off  their  ignoble  weeds,  and  robed  themselves  in 
beauteous  apparel,  and  sat  as  men.  Let  it  be  so,  at  least,  in  the 
apartments  of  love.  If  you  go  through  narrow  streets,  and  foul, 
through  the  lower  apartments  of  your  nature,  poor  and  miserable,  let 
there  be  far  back  a  door  which,  oj)ening,  shall  reveal  to  you  all  the 
beauty  of  love — its  purity,  its  divinity. 

As  one  grows  older,  he  ought  not  to  grow  poorer.  Rivers  do 
not  grow  shallower  as  they  roll  away  from  the  fountain,  but  deeper 
as  they  near  the  ocean ;  and  surely,  the  heart's  ri\rer  ought  not  to  be 
an  exception.  It  should  roll  with  broader  channel  and  deeper  banks 
till  it  reaches  the  ocean,  and  mingles  with  it. 

The  deo-radation  of  the  altar  of  the  soul  should  be  abhorred  as  a 
very  sacrilege.  We  should  teach  our  children  this  truth.  It  should 
be  the  teaching  of  the  school ;  and  it  should  go  out  of  the  school 
into  the  business  of  life.  And  men  should  be  taught  a  principle  of 
honor,  even  of  conscience,  in  regard  to  this  degradation  of  the  altar 
of  the  soul.  It  is  sacrilege  to  rob  an  earthly  temple.  Is  it  not 
sacrilege  to  rob  God's  temple  ? 

If  the  highest  part  of  our  nature  is  so  low  and  contemptible, 
what  must  the  lowest  be  ?  If  our  very  affection,  if  love  itself, 
is  guilty  of  dissimulating,  what  must  be  the  practice  of  our  less 
watched  and  less  guarded  feelings  ?  If  we  have  more  need  of  tho- 
rough cleansing  here,  how  much  more  need  have  we  of  watching  our 
more  obvious  and  worldly  feelings.  Do  we  not  here,  do  we  not 
everywhere.  Christian  brethren,  need  to  say,  "  Seai'ch  me,  O  God !  and 
try  me,  and  see  if  there  be  any  evil  in  me"  ?  These  subtle  weak- 
nesses  of  the    soul    elude    men's   grasp   and  analysis ;   and   here, 


DISSIMULATINQ   LOVE.  265 

more  than  anywhere  else,  one  feels  the  need  of  the  cleansing  of  the 
Divine  Spirit,  and  inspiration  in  what  is  true,  and  right,  and  pure, 
and  beautiful.  And  teaching  these  qualities  also  strengthens  us  to 
possess  them. 

May  God  grant  that  we  may  grow  in  the  spirit  of  true  love ;  grow 
finer  and  richer  in  it ;  and  grow  more  various,  more  copious  in  its 
exhibitions.  May  love,  given,  be  as  the  very  fruit  plucked  from  the 
tree  of  life ;  and  withheld,  may  it  be  a  witness  to  men  which  shall 
awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  their  ill-desert.  May  we  be  kept  from 
the  traffic  of  the  soul.    May  our  "  love  be  without  dissimulation." 


PKATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMOIT. 

Thou  hast  called  us,  our  Father  ;  we  have  come  at  thy  voice  ;  and  what  do  we 
here  without  thee  ?  Vain  are  our  oblations,  and  all  our  service  dies  in  the  ear 
and  upon  the  lip.  Thou,  O  God !  must  breathe  thy  life  upon  us,  which  shall  give 
meaning  to  all  our  service,  and  profit  to  every  endeavor.  Thou  hast  nourished 
us  all  the  days  of  our  lives.  Our  health,  our  strength,  and  the  comforts  which 
ahound  on  every  side,  are  testimonies  of  thy  nourishing  care.  And  is  all  thy 
thought  expended  upon  the  outward  ?  Dost  thou  build  us  up  in  body,  and  not 
care  for  the  soul  ?  We  are  the  temples  of  God.  Dost  thou  not  care  for  the  altar  ? 
Look  within,  we  beseech  of  thee,*  this  morning  ;  and  grant,  in  addition  to  all  the 
other  mercies  which  we  are  receiving,  the  light  and  the  joy  of  thy  heart  in  our 
hearts.  Teach  us  the  royal  road  of  divine  love.  Teach  us  to  find  thee  consciously. 
Be  present  to  our  thoughts.  Our  eye  aches  in  searching  for  thee,  and  our  ear  ia 
tired  with  listening  for  the  sound  of  thy  footsteps,  and  thou  art  not  anywhere 
Reaching  the  hand  out  at  midday,  it  is  as  if  it  were  midnight ;  for  we  grope  in 
vain.  Thou  wilt  not  appear  to  the  body.  Thou  art  not  for  it.  Teach  us,  then, 
to  reach  out  other  hands,  to  open  other  eyes,  to  listen  with  another  sense  within, 
and  to  recognize  the  presence  of  our  God  in  the  soul.  May  we  know  how  to 
find  the  formless  God,  to  discern  the  invisible,  and  to  hear  the  inavidible.  Help 
us  this  day,  we  beseech  of  thee  ;  for  thou  canst.  Speak  thy  thoughts  to  us.  Call 
each  one  of  us  by  name.  .Make  thyself  known  to  us.  Who  can  search  the  heart 
hut  thou,  0  our  God?  We  shall  know  thee  if  thou  dost  search  our  hearts. 
Thou  dost  touch  the  place  of  life,  and  only  thou  canst  do  it.  Thou  hast,  in  times 
gone  by,  many  times,  blessed  be  thy  name !  revealed  thyself  thus  interiorly  to  us. 
We  know  thee.  We  have  risen  up  with  the  ardor  of  every  aflfection,  and  ac- 
claimed thee  not  only  God  above,  but  our  God.  We  have  in  silence  and  in 
the  shadow  of  the  soul  clasped  thee  unrebuked.  Thou  hast  not  said  to  us, 
"  Touch  me  not."  We  have  rejoiced  in  the  fullness  of  communion  with  thee. 
We  have  risen  more  refreshed  than  flowers  in  the  morning  by  the  dew  which 
the  night  hath  poured  upon  them.  We  rest  upon  thee  more  than  upon  the 
bosom  of  any  other  love.  We  rejoice  in  thee  more  than  when  food  or  wine 
hath  strengthened  us.  For  thou  art  more  than  bread,  and  more  than  the 
water  of  life.  Thou  art  all  in  all.  Whatever  our  senses  crave,  whatever  our 
affections  crave,  whatever  our  noblest  sentiments  crave,  whatever  our  imagina- 
tion and  our  understanding  crave  —  all,  an^  more  than  this,  thou  art.  And 
when  we  are  full  and  overflowing,  still  thou  art  not  empty.     Though  all  living 


266  DISSIMULATING   LOVE. 

creatures  upon  tlie  eartli  draw  from  thee  tlieir  supply,  thou  art  not  exhausted, 
and  thou  art  still  tending  and  nourishing,  and  art  not  weary.  Thou  never  faint- 
est nor  turnest  back.  From  eternity  still  moving  forward  to  eternity,  thou  art 
the  unchangeable  and  the  inexhaustible.     And  we  rejoice  in  thee. 

Once  more,  this  morning,  together  we  desire  to  renew  our  covenants  and  our 
vows,  to  confess  our  sins,  to  humbly  supplicate  thy  forbearance  and  thy  pardon, 
and  to  beseech  thee  for  grace  to  inspire  and  help  us  in  time  to  come,  that  we  may 
not  stumble  at  the  accustomed  places  ;  that  we  may  be  able  to  gain  victories  over 
our  victors  ;  that  we  may  lead  captivity  captive.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou 
wilt  fill  us  with  thy  presence,  by  which  we  may  be  able  to  overcome  doubt  and 
fear  and  discouragement.  May  we  not  be  afraid  of  any  thing.  Let  not  the 
threat  and  the  sin  of  the  world  alarm  us.  As  birds  in  the  interior  forest  do  sing 
on  though  the  battle  may  rage  in  the  fields  beyond,  so  may  there  be  that  within 
us  which  shall  sing  amidst  the  strife  and  struggle  and  turmoil  of  this  wicked 
world.  Grant,  0  Lord  !  that  we  may  not  be  afraid  of  life,  nor  of  any  of  its  em- 
battled powers.  And  still  less  may  we  be  afraid  of  death.  May  we  look  upon  it 
with  more  comfort  than  children  look  upon  the  coming  of-  the  twilight  hour. 
Oh !  that  we  may  look  away  from  the  realm  of  our  senses.  Oh !  that  we  may  not 
be  cast  down.  Forbid  that  they  shall  interpret  to  us  the  meaning,  the  sweetness, 
the  power,  the  revelations  of  the  dying  hour.  Oh  !  for  that  love  of  truer  manhood 
which  shall  make  us  willing  to  be  borne  -through  the  grave.  Oh  !  for  such 
yearnings  for  purity,  and  beauty,  and  virtue,  and  holiness,  and  communion  with 
God,  as  shall  make  us  gladly  pilgrims  of  the  night,  seeking  the  everlasting 
morning.  Oh  !  take  away  from  us  the  stain  and  disfigurement  and  misinterpre- 
tations and  slanders  which  fear  and  heathenism  have  cast  upon  dying.  And 
whether  it  come  by  slow  approach,  as  music  coming  from  afar,  or  whether  it 
come  with  sudden  stroke,  grant  that  we  may  not  shrink.  May  we  be  glad 
to  stay,  if  it  be  thy  will,  though  homesick.  May  we  be  willing  to  labor, 
though  weary.  May  we  be  willing  to  struggle,  though  so  often  vanquished. 
And  yet,  may  we  be  glad  to  go,  and  look  for  joy,  and  wait  for  the  opening  of  the 
door  through  which  we  shall  pass  swiftly,  and  leave  sickness  and  sorrow  and  sin 
behind.  And  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  our  God !  that  thou  wilt  grant  the 
triumph  of  our  faith  in  all  the  conditions  in  which  we  are  placed  in  life.  Grant 
that  we  may  have  a  virtue  that  is  stronger  than  wealth,  and  be  able  to  subdue 
it,  and  not  be  contaminated  by  it.  May  we  have  that  love  and  power  of  faith 
which  is  stronger  than  refinement ;  and  may  we  not  be  selfish  through  refine- 
ment. May  we  overcome,  by  the  faith  of  Christ,  the  seductions  of  pleasure 
and  the  temptations  of  knowledge,  and  be  able  to  spoil  the  world,  and,  as  victors, 
bear  off  the  spoils.  Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  we  may  be  able  to  take  the 
full  faith  of  a  perfected  manhood,  and  all  the  conditions  of  perfected  society,  and 
not  be  degraded  by  them.  And  may  we  lift  them  up,  and  shine  upon  them  with 
a  holy  life,  and  make  them  strong  and  mighty  for  the  work  of  God  in  all  the 
earth. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  vrilt  draw  near  to  all  thy  churches.  Quicken 
thy  ministering  servants,  and  give  them  more  faith,  and  give  them  deeper  inspira- 
tion, and  a  truer  hold  upon  the  divine  life.  More  and  more  encourage  them. 
May  they  sow  seed.  May  they  be  blessed  in  their  seed-sowing,  by  the  abundant 
harvests  which  they  ere  long  shall  reap.  Strengthen  the  churches  that  are  weak ; 
and  multiply  them.  Send  everywhere,  into  regions  where  there  is  emigration, 
men  that  shall  build  up  the  school,  the  college,  and  the  church.  And  grant  that 
knowledge,  virtue,  and  piety  may  prevail  throughout  all  this  land. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  make  this  people  a  God-fearing  people,  and 


DISSIMULATING   LOVE.  267 

a  man-loving  people.  And  may  we  not  seek  for  the  things  that  shall  show  ©ur 
vain  strength.  May  we  not  desire  quarrel  or  war.  May  we  be  temperate,  and 
consider  not  our  own  interests  alone,  but  the  whole  welfare  of  man.  May  we  not 
be  easily  provoked.  May  we  not  think  evil.  May  we  love  all  things.  May  we 
endure  all  things.  May  we  remember  that  the  hand  of  violence  can  not  strike 
without  destroying  the  poor  and  needy.  May  we  remember  that  war  despoils  the 
innocent  and  the  helpless  more  than  the  oppressor.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou 
wilt  take  out  of  the  minds  of  all  people  the  insane  fury  of  war.  And  grant  that 
virtue,  and  justice,  and  liberty,  and  intelligence,  and  true  piety  may  supplant  vio- 
lence. And  so  may  superstition  and  ignorance  flee  away,  and  the  bright  coming 
of  thy  kingdom  dawn  upon  the  world,  like  the  morning  upon  the  mountains. 

WUt  thou  hear  us  in  these  our  petitions,  and  answer  us,  for  Christ  Jesus* 
sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  of  truth  ;  and 
grant  that  it  may  be  true  to  the  conscience  and  to  the  understanding  of  every  one 
that  has  heard  it.  May  we  be  held  away  from  temptations.  May  we  be  strength- 
ened, if  temptations  still  come  upon  us,  to  resist  and  overcome  them.  May  we  be 
more  solicitous  for  our  manhood  than  for  our  estate.  May  we  be  more  anxious  to 
stand  right  with  God  than  to  have  the  favor  of  man.  May  we  desire  our  salva- 
tion hereafter  more  than  our  prosperity  now.  May  we  have  thy  favor,  the  light 
of  thy  countenance,  and  the  joys  of  thy  salvation.  We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake. 
Amen 


XVI. 

The  Door. 


THE  DOOR. 

SUNDAY   MORNING,  JUNE  27,  1869. 


"  I  AM  the  door :  by  me  if  any  man  enter  in,  he  shall  be  saved,  and  shall  go 
in  and  out." — John  x.  9. 


DiPFEKENT  nations  have  styles  of  illustration  peculiar  to  them- 
selves. The  Oriental,  the  Northern,  and  the  Mediterranean  nations 
have  styles  so  different  that  one  can  scarcely  ever  be  mistaken  or 
confounded  with  regard  to  them.  The  Hebrew,  among  the  Orien- 
tals, stood  eminently  peculiar.  He  knew  how  to  employ  in  his  speech 
the  sublimest  elements  of  nature,  and,  with  equal  boldness,  how  to 
•  employ,  for  the  sublimest  occasions,  the  homeliest  and  commonest 
figures.  Who  but  such  a  one  as  Jesus  would  have  dared  liken 
himself  to  a  hen  ?  Yet  that  single  act  of  the  hen  which  is  charm- 
ing, was  selected,  and  forever  will  be  full  of  divine  beauty. 

Christ  compares  himself  to  a  road ;  to  a  loaf  of  bread  ;  to  water ; 
to  a  coat,  or  garment ;  to  a  house ;  and,  in  the  passage  from  which 
we  begin  this  discourse,  to  a  door.  And  this  habit  of  selecting 
familiar  and  homely  objects,  and  using  them  in  some  of  their  rela- 
tions or  functions,  to  illustrate  divine  elements,  is  one  of  the  pecu- 
liarities of  Scripture. 

In  this  instance,  and  in  all  others  mentioned,  if  you  attempt  a 
literal  and  physical  comparison,  the  figure  will  crumble  under  your 
hands,  and  turn  to  homeliness  and  dust.  But  if  you  consider  the 
function  of  the  object,  or  its  special  uses  and  associations,  then  the 
significance  and  beauty  of  the  illustration  will  grow  upon  you  the 
more  you  consider  it. 

That  the  Son  of  God  should  be  "called  a  governor,  a  prince,  a 
king,  seems  congruous ;  but  that  he  should  be  called  a  shepherd,  a 
farmer,  a  vine-dresser,  at  first  startles  a  little.  If  natural  objects  are 
selected — a  mountain,  a  flame,  the  sun — how  in  them  there  is  a  fitness 
that  satisfies  expectation  !  But  to  select  a  door,  seldom  a  thing  of 
beauty,  without  impressiveness,  a  mere  instrument  of  convenience — 
this  may  well  startle  one  at  first.  And  yet,  upon  further  thought, 
tliere  will  come  to  mind  one  and  another,  and  finally  so  many  uses, 
that  admiration  will  take  the  place  of  surprise. 


270  TEE  DOOR. 

A  door' is  the  emblem  of  separation,  in  one  sense.  Only  the  hand 
of  the  householder,  or  his  appointed  servants,  may  open  it.  Kot  all 
who  pass  it  may  lift  the  latch.  On  one  side  are  strangers,  excluded, 
kept  out ;  on  the  other,  the  family,  included  and  defended.  On  one 
side  are  the  passions,  the  hunting  business,  the  driving  cares  of  the 
world ;  on  the  other,  love  and  quietness. 

The  door  is  the  separating  instrument.  It  is  the  point  in  the  wall 
where  there  may  be  exit  or  ingress.  It  is  the  point  of  defense  for  all 
that  are  within,  and  the  point  of  separation  for  all  that  are  without. 
It  is  the  symbol,  then,  of  the  great  fact  of  the  cherished  household, 
and  of  the  great  jostling  world  that  is  separated  from  it — to  the  one 
a  refuge  ;  to  the  other  an  exclusion. 

The  door  is  also  the  symbol  of  protection — if  that  is  not  already 
implied  in  the  foregoing  word.  It  gives  security.  It  defends  the 
weak  and  the  innocent  children.  The  things  that  are  happening  in 
the  community  roll  up  to  the  household,  and,  like  a  wave  upon  the 
beach,  they  break  and  pass  away.  And  we  can  bring  up  our  chil- 
dren, thanks  be  to  the  door,  or  the  house,  in  the  midst  of  pernicious 
examples,  in  the  midst  of  temptations  innumerable,  safely  and  nobly 
and  purely.  It  stands  between  them  and  the  thief,  and  the  rude  * 
assailant,  and  the  mischievous  interloper,  and  the  man  of  pestiferous 
morals. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  door  is  the  symbol  of  hospitality.  To 
keep  an  open  door^  is  equivalent  to  the  declaration  that  one  is  princely 
in  the  use  of  his  house,  and  employs  it  as  an  instrument  of  pleasure 
to  others.  A  man  is  often  said  to  put  his  house  at  the  service  of  his 
neighbors  and  friends.  But  as  the  house  is  entered  or  used  by  means 
of  the  door,  we  also  say  that  his  door  is  always  open,  meaning  the 
same  thing.  But  as  the  door  itself  can  not  be  opened  except  by  the 
latch,  we  say  that  the  latch  is  always  drawn,  or  that  the  latch-string 
hangs  out.  In  primitive  times,  the  latch  was  lifted  by  a  string; 
whereas,  now,  it  is  lifted  by  a  much  more  curious  machinery.  Tlie 
house  is  employed  for  hospitality ;  and  the  door,  which  symbolizes  the 
whole  house,  or  the  latch,  which  is  the  means  of  using  the  door,  re- 
presents great  acts  of  kindness. 

At  the  door  we  take  our  fal-ewells  of  children  going  out  into  life, 
with  many  tears,  and  many  exhortations,  and  some  fears,  and  many 
hopes.  At  the  door  we  take  leave  of  departing  friends,  who  have 
cheered  us  for  a  while,  and  return  to  their  several  spheres  of  duty. 
At  the  door  we  bid  farewell  to  guests  who  have  honored  our  dwell- 
ing. There,  too,  the  dead  seem  separated  from  us  forever.  So  long 
as  their  forms  lay  silently  within,  they  seemed  yet  ours,  though  the 
eye  saw  nothing,  and  the  ear  heard  nothing,  and  the  lip  spoke 
nothing ;  but  when  once  their  feet  had  been  borne  through  the  door, 


THE  DOOR.  271 

they  were  gone  out  forever,  and  the  places  that  knew  them  should 
know  them  no  more. 

At  the  door,  too,  we  greet  the  returning  children,  and  meet  and 
welcome  the  much-prized  friends  and  guests.  What  sweet  surprises 
have  seized  us  there,  as  some  dear  face,  unexpected,  dawned  through 
the  door,  like  a  star  shining  through  the  darkness !  At  the  door  we 
stand  waiting  for  the  messenger.  The,  child  is  sick,  and  hastening 
onward.      Will  he  come  ?    Will  he  come  guichly  f 

The  maiden,  with  hospitable  intent,  lights  to  the  door  the  now 
frequent  visitor,  and  a  gentle  courage  sustains  her  in  such  farewells 
as  a  moment  before  she  would  have  shrunk  from.  The  unsteady- 
lamp  goes  out ;  and  yet,  never  was  twilight  so  bright,  nor  were  inar- 
ticulate sounds  ever  so  full  of  meaning. 

Here,  too,  at  the  door,  in  the  hot  summer  evening,  sits  the  patri- 
arch, and,  in  a  group  near  by,  the  family ;  and  familiar  neighbors, 
passing  by,  stop  and  exchange  kindly  salutations.  Friendliness  pre- 
vails. The  houses  which  are  in  winter  close  shut,  now  throw  all  their 
treasures  forth.  As  trees  and  shrubs  push  out  their  buds  into  odor- 
ous blossoms,  so  in  summer  our  sons  and  daughters  blossom  out,  and 
we  sit  in  hdspitable  publicity  at  our  doors. 

And  so,  if  you  consider  what  is  the  power  of  association,  you 
will  see  that  a  door  is  not  a  mere  wooden  partition  for  mechanical 
uses,  but  that  it  is  a  witness  and  an  instrument  of  the  heart's  choicest 
experience.  The  heart,  after  all,  is  the  alabaster  box  of  precious 
ointment,  and  whatever  its  affections  touch,  they  fill  with  undying 
fragrance.  The  homeliest  things,  and  the  things  most  common,  are  by 
the  heart  redeemed  from  vulgarity,  and  sanctified  to  nobler  uses.  And 
because  at  the  doorway  so  much  happens  in  which  the  heart's  deepest 
nature  is  concerned,  the  door  itself  becomes  sanctified  in  association. 

When  our  Saviour,  therefore,  called  himself  a  door,  no  more  sig- 
nificant symbol  could  well  have  been  selected,  either  for  variety,  or 
for  the  sweetness,  the  beauty,  and  the  usefulness  of  the  truth  which 
was  meant. 

The  immediate  reference  is  here  had  to  the  shepherd's  door — 
the  gate  of  the  fold ;  as  in  the  preceding  verses,  the  Saviour  has  been 
speaking  of  his  flock,  and  of  himself  as  the  Shepherd.  But  the  appli- 
cation is  not  to  be  confined  to  that.  The  circumstances  which  made 
it  fit  in  the  humbler  relation,  give  it  a  still  more  ample  and  nobler 
use  in  the  wider  and  larger  relation. 

The  central  idea,  then,  is  this :  that  Christ  is  that  power  through 
which  the  soul  finds  relief,  protection,  peace,  gladness;  that  he  is 
the  Benefactor ;  that  he  is  the  Father ;  that  he  greets  the  going  out 
and  the  returning  ;  that  he  uses  his  heavenly  power,  and  his  heaven- 
ly mansion,  and  his  own  self,  as  a  door  is  used,  where,  going  out  and 


272  TEE  BOOR. 

coming  in,  one  lias  the  full  ricliness  of  the  refined  and  loving  house- 
hold. He  is  the  Way,  and  he  is  the  Gate.  These  are  familiar  Scrip- 
ture figures,  both  pointing  to  the  same  thing.  Whoso  enters  by  this 
living  Door,  shall  find  rest  and  safety.  Every  one  on  earth  is  seek- 
ing a  home  for  his  heart.  The  soul's  home  is  behind  and  within  this 
Door,  Christ  Jesus.  For,  wherever  else  we  have  some  pleasure,  some 
rest,  some  protection,  nowhgre  else  is  there  either  rest,  pleasure,  or 
protection  which  misfortunes  can  not  reach  to,  nor  troubles  destroy, 
excej^t  behind  this  Door,  Christ  Jesus,  and  within  the  circle  of  his 
household. 

I  shall  lead  your  thoughts  to  this  idea  of  the  intimate  relationship 
which  Christ  may  sustain  to  the  human  soul,  by  following  out  this 
figure  of  Scripture  in  some  of  its  familiar  uses. 

1.  If  there  is  a  sound  in  the  household  sweeter  than  the  opening 
and  closing  door  of  the  house  where  love  reigns,  I  do  not  know  what 
it  is.  Much  as  we  may  be  educated  to  music,  if  you  will  recall  your 
own  experience,  you  will  know  that  the  sweetest  sounds  that  you 
hear  are  not  musical  sounds.  If  in  the  night  you  wake  from  a 
troubled  dream,  child  as  you  are,  afii'ighted  and  trembling,  the  sweet- 
est of  all  Beethoven's  music  below  would  not  be  so  comforting  as  to 
hear  your  father  clear  his  voice — A-e-wi — in  the  room  adjoining.  You 
turn  over,  and  feel  that  you  are  at  home.  And  so,  a  walk  in  the  en- 
try, or  even  a  cough  in  grandmother's  room,  is  so  surrounded  with 
sweet  associations  of  home,  that  no  formulated  musical  sounds  are 
half  so  sweet  as  are  these  incidental  and  very  homely  sounds.  And 
the  opening  and  shutting  of  the  door  at  the  right  hour  is  one  of  the 
musical  sounds  of  home. 

All  day  long  the  father  strives  in  the  ofiice,  in  the  store,  in  the 
shop,  in  the  street,  along  the  wharves,  wherever  his  labor  calls  him  ; 
and  the  whole  day  has  been  full  of  care  and  wrangling.  The  head 
is  hot,  and  the  hand  is  weary,  and  the  pulse  is  feverish  ;  and  as  the 
day  draws  on,  the  busy  man  prepares  at  last  for  home. 

If  he  is  wise,  he  will  leave  his  care  behind  him.  Let  the  dead 
bury  their  dead.  Leave  your  calculations  at  the  desk.  Leave  your 
anxieties  in  your  store.  Never  take  them  into  the  street,  nor  biing 
them  home. 

The  man  draws  near  his  dwelling.  The  door  opens  to  his  touch. 
The  children  hear  it.  The  elder  ones  run.  The  young  prattler, 
mother-borne,  gets  there  first — quicker  than  the  nimblest.  Now,  how 
his  heart  rejoices  !  Every  wrinkle  is  rubbed  out.  He  looks  around 
with  a  sense  of  grateful  rest,  and  thanks  God  that  the  sound  of  that 
shutting  door  was  the  last  echo  of  the  thunder  of  care  and  trouble. 
That  is  outside,  and  he  is  at  home,  with  her  that  he  loves  best,  and 
with  those  that  are  dearest  to  him.     That  door  opened  to  let  him  in 


THE  DOOR.  273 

to  love  and  peace  and  jey ;  it  shut  to  keep  out  the  turbiilence  of 
the  quarrelsome  world,  and  the  influence  of  grinding  business. 

Now,  is  there  any  likeness  in  this  to  Christ  Jesus  ?  Is  there  any 
such  access  to  Christ  Jesus  as  may  be  compared  to  a  man's  experi- 
ence when  he  repairs  to  his  home,  and,  opening  the  door,  has  the  full 
sweet  welcome,  and,  shutting  it,  exiles  all  that  disturbs  and  all  that 
creates  discord  ?  "  Behold,  I  am  the  door,"  says  Christ ;  as  if  he 
were  a  householder.  Opening,  you  shall  be  within  the  circle  of  love. 
Shutting,  you  shall  be  protected  against  all  turmoil  and  care.  Per- 
fect peace  have  they  who  put  their'  trust  in  him.  Joy  and  peace, 
that  pass  all  understanding — such  joy  and  peace  as  the  world  knows 
not — are  to  be  found  in  Christ.  My  dear  friends,  there  is  a  friend- 
ship in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  which  may  be  to  us  what  the  door  of 
the  household  is  to  the  most  care-bestridden  and  bested  of  men. 
What  the  home,  with  all  its  sweet  afiections  is  to  the  troubled  heart, 
that  the  Saviour  is  to  those  who  know  how  to  make  use  of  him — 
not  the  Saviour  didactically  taught  or  controversially  preached,  but 
the  Saviour  discerned  by  a  living  and  personal  faith.  There  is  such 
intercourse  and  welcome  behind  him  as  thei'e  is  behind  the  shutting 
door.  There  is  that  in  him  which  shall  make  every  man,  in  the  midsf 
of  the  most  tried  and  bestormed  life,  rest  upon  his  bosom.  Oh  !  if 
men  could  but  find>the  Door,  if  they  could  but  know  what  peace 
there  is  in  Christ  Jesus  for  them,  I  am  sure  they  would  not  go  so 
friendless,  and  harassed,  and  distressed. 

Speak,  ye  that  have  proved  it.  Speak,  mothers  who  have  been 
sustained  in  the  midst  of  troubles  that  rasped  the  soul  to  the  very 
quick;  who  have  been  upborne  under  trials  that  seemed  likely  to 
break  down  heart  and  body.  Testify  that  nothing  but  Christ's 
presence  kept  you,  and  that  that  did  keep  you  in  perfect  peace. 
Speak,  fathers,  who  have  gone  through  the  burden  and  heat  of  the 
world,  and  been  tried.  Hundreds,  thousands  there  are,  that  could 
bear  witness,  "If  it  had  not  been  for  the  secret  evidence  that  I  had  of 
the  truth  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  I  never  could  have  endured  it." 
There  ai'e  bereaved  hearts  and  weej)ing  eyes  innumerable  that  need 
the  refuge  which  you  have  found.  O  mothers !  O  fathers !  that 
have  put  Christ  to  proof,  and  found  him  a  welcome  Door,  behind 
which  was  peace  and  joy,  speak,  and  confirm  these  facts.  Let  them 
not  rest  upon  my  saying.  Let  them  be  a  joyful  testimony  scattered 
up  and  down  through  society. 

Oh !  that  a  man  could  say  to  his  neighbor,  who  is  overborne, 
"  My  friend,  you  are  tried  in  your  affairs ;  but  if  you  had  my  Christ, 
how  easy  could  you  carry  your  burden  !"  Oh !  that  there  were  a  natural 
and  continuous  testimony  of  men  to  the  helpfulness  of  Christ.  If, 
when  a  man  in  business  is  running  after  an  indorser,  another  man 


274  TEE  BOOR. 

in  "business  says  to  him,  "  I  have  found  an  indorser  for  you,"  how 
quickly  the  man  goes  with  his  pajDers  for  indorsement !  But  there 
is  One  that  never  broke,  and  never  will  break,  who  says,  "  Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest."  Of  all  blessings  that  are  unused,  there  is  none  greater  than 
the  personal  presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  those  who  are  pri- 
vileged to  avail  themselves  of  it. 

2.  Christ  is  a  door  for  the  petitioner.  If  the  journal  of  the  hearts 
of  all  petitioners  who  have  made  pilgrimages  to  the  doors  of  rich 
men,  men  of  influence,  wise  men,  and  men  of  skill,  could  be  writ- 
ten, it  would  be  more  full  of  pathos  than  any  equal  strain  in  human 
literature.  For*  the  best  things  are  the  things  that  are  never  writ- 
ten. The  tumults  of  thought,  the  discriminations  of  feeling,  the 
fluctuations  of  emotion,  in  delicate  natures,  no  pen  can  reproduce. 
And  yet  how  copious  are  they!  Who  can  depict  or  imagine 
the  solicitude  with  which  one  delicately  reared,  in  the  midst  of 
abundance,  but  reduced,  not  by  her  own  fault,  to  poverty — to 
more  than  poverty — to  hardship — seeks  aid  that  she  may  rescue 
from  suffering  and  death  her  offspring  ?  Imagine  one  who  was  an 
only  child,  brought  up  in  afiluence,  and  receiving  whatever  she 
needed,  and  knowing  life,  in  the  earlier  parts  of  it,  only  by  its  ro- 
seate touches — imagine  such  a  one  with  a  sick  child,  and  so  poor 
that,  though  it  needs  the  most  delicate  food,  she  can  only  give  it  the 
coarsest  bread.  She  is  obliged  to  drop  from  the  best  skill  to  the 
next  best,  and  from  the  best  remedies  to  the  poorest.  She  knows 
that  the  sea-shore  or  the  mountain  would  cure  the  child ;  but  there  is 
no  bridge  of  gold  that  can  carry  the  child's  feet  thither.  She  says, 
"  If  it  was  a  rich  man's  child,  it  Avould  live  ;  but  it  is  a  poor  man's 
child,  and  it  must  die."  And  then  she  thinks,  "  Oh  !  if  I  could  but 
pick  up  the  crumbs  of  that  man's  afiluence,  it  would  sufiice."  And 
though  she  can  not  beg,  she  can  not  stay  at  home  to  see  her  darling 
die.  And,  torn  between  delicacy  on  the  one  side,  and  affection  on 
the  other,  between  pride  and  maternal  love,  how  does  she  go  hesi- 
tating toward  the  door  of  the  rich  man,  to  ask  for  help.  Her  house 
is  desolate.  Her  only  child  is  now  left  alone.  Love  drives  one 
way,  and  shame  and  fear  the  other.  Now  see  her.  Why  has  she 
gone  by  the  unfamiliar  place  ?  Her  heart  fails.  She  can  not  go  in. 
She  stops  again,  for  she  can  not  give  it  up.  And  how  often,  when 
she  stands,  at  last,  before  the  door,  does  her  trembling  hand  reach 
for  the  bell,  and  find  it  not !  And  when  she  does  find  the  bell,  with 
what  a  faint  tinkling  does  it  ring  !  And  then,  who  can  describe  the 
waiting  minutes,  which  seem  to  her  hours  ?  Now  a  mufiied  foot- 
step, far  in  the  hall,  is  heai'd  by  her  fevered  ear.  Presently  the  door 
is  opened.     God  be  thanked !  some  courteous,  pleasant-faced  servant 


TEE  DOOR.  275 

stands  tliere  to  ask  her  will,  and  sympathizes  with  all  the  aspect  of 
sorrow  which  she  bears,  and  with  gentle  treatment  ushers  her  in. 
And  scarcely  has  she  seated  herself  before  the  benefactor,  not  reluc- 
tant, but  prompt,  and  fatherly,  and  with  sympathy  both  in'eye  and 
voice,  comes — comes  a  human  being  to  a  human  being — making  her 
sorrow  his  own,  as  soon  as  he  hears  it ;  treating  her  with  honor, 
though  she  be  a  suppliant ;  and  not  obliging  her  to  fight  the  battle 
of  charity,  and  wring  out  reluctant  help,  but  pressing,  with  zeal, 
more  upon  her  than  she  dreamed  of  receiving  ;  and  following  her 
footsteps  with  his  own  visiting  steps,  to  know  her  own  real  wants 
in  her  own  house.  And  how  does  she,  a*s  the  door  closes  upon  her, 
turn  and  invoke  blessings  upon  him !  Surely,  if  there  is  any  voice 
that  will  bring  from  heaven  the  choicest  blessings  of  God,  it  is  the 
voice  of  one  whose  heart  overflows  with  gratitude  under  circum- 
stances such  as  these. 

But  have  there  not  been  just  such  ones  ?  Have  there  not  been 
those  who  have  gone  to  Christ  for  themselves,  or  for  their  children, 
with  as  little  faith,  wntli  as  many  fears,  with  anguish  unspeakable  ? 
And,  or  ever  they  knew  it,  the  cloud  was  lifted ;  the  bright  way 
shone;  the  door  was  opened;  the  Christ  was  manifest;  the  bounty 
of  heaven  flooded  their  souls  ;  not  one  care  weighted  them  down. 

My  venerable  friend*  who  sits  before  me  told  me,  if  I  mistake 
not,  that  Dr.  John  Mason  went  to  his  own  front-door,  one  day,  when 
a  little  colored  slave  gii-1,  who  afterward  became  an  eminent  Chris- 
tian woman,  had  rung  the  bell ;  and  that  she  said,  in  giving  a  nar- 
ration of  the  fact,  "  I  never  should  have  had  courage  to  tell  him 
what  I  wanted,  if,  as  he  met  me,  he  had  not  addressed  me  kindly, 
and  said,  "  Well,  my  dear,  have  you  come  to  talk  with  me  about  the 
salvation  of  your  soul  ?"  That  was  the  very  errand.  He  opened 
the  door  himself,  and  introduced  the  theme  with  such  benignity  and 
condescension  that  the  trouble  was  over  before  she  opened  her  lips. 

I  have  often  thought  that  so  Christ  meets  those  who  need  him, 
and  come  to  him  with  solicitation.  Or  ever  the  petition  is  uttered, 
his  arms  are  about  their  neck.  Their  hearts  are  witnesses  that  the 
petition  is  answered. 

3.  Christ  is  the  Door  for  doubt,  where  it  hides  itself  in  certainty. 
There  is  no  experience  more  dreary  and  more  painful,  to  a  noble 
nature,  than  that  of  doubt.  There  be  many  who  look  upon  skep- 
ticism and  doubt  as  though  these  were  liberation ;  and  they  talk 
about  "  the  liberty  of  reason."  This  may  do  for  dry  natures  ;  it  may 
do  for  persons  who  have  no  deep  moral  impulses  ;  but  I  can  imagine 
no  purgatory  more  trying  than  for  a  person  that  is  deep-hearted, 
full   of  afi'ection,  full  of  pride — not  of  circumstance,  but  of  being, 

*  Mr.  Lewis  Tappan. 


ofG  THE  Boon. 

of  immortality — full  of  hope  and  yearning,  and  all  of  whose  early  life 
has  revealed  to  him  various  truths,  and  various  realms  of  truth — I 
can  imagine  no  purgatory  more  trying  than  for  such  a  one  to  find 
himself,  from  one  cause  or  another,  falling  from  the  teachings  of 
childhood — falling  from  faith.  It  is  not  hard  to  give  up  a  single 
doctrine  upon  proof;  but  to  give  up  realms  of  truth,  to  find  one's 
self  floating  ofi"  from  old  foundations,  and  believing  almost  nothing, 
is  the  most  trying  thing  which  a  deep  and  generous  nature  can  ex- 
perience in  this  world.  Not  to  know  what  to  believe ;  to  believe  to- 
day something,  and  to-morrow  nothing ;  to  wish  you  could  believe ; 
to  o-o  seeking  truth  and  confirmation,  now  to  this  philosopher,  now 
to  this  logician,  noAV  to  this  arguing  preacher,  now  at  this  joyous 
meeting,  and  to  return,  after  all,  stripped  and  barren — oh  !  that  is 
desolate.  There  is  nothing  so  desolate  as  the  state  of  doubt.  I  would 
rather  have  superstition.  A  superstitious  believer  is  far  better  than 
a  doubter.  For,  admitting  that  it  is  all  a  lie,  and  that  superstition 
is  dead — dead  at  the  root — a  man  that  is  superstitious  is  like  a  tree 
that  is  covered  with  the  greenness  of  mistletoe,  not  with  leaves  ot 
its  own.  'Mistletoe  is  prettier  than  nothing  at  all.  A  man  who 
lives  in  doubt  is  like  a  tree  that  is  without  any  mistletoe,  and  is  dead 
from  top  to  root.  Mistletoe  is  not  a  good  substitute  for  leaves  ;  but 
it  is  a  great  deal  better  than  dead  wood. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  a  doubter  might  well  be  compared 
to  one  lost  in  a  blinding  snow-storm.  If  any  of  you  have  had  ex- 
perience on  our  Western  prairies,  you  know  that  here  in  this  thickly 
settled  and  forest-clad  country  there  is  no  match  for  the  storms  that 
take  place  there  in  Avinter.  On. the  open  prairie,  one  starts  upon  his 
journey,  every  landmark  clear,  and  the  way  familiar.  Little  by  lit- 
tle, as  the  hours  pass  on,  a  haze  creeps  down  the  horizon.  The  sun 
is  gone,  with  a  pale  and  watery  farewell.  Snow  in  scattered  flakes 
begins  to  descend,  and  gradually  increases.  The  road  is  soon 
whitened  and  obliterated.  There  are  no  fences,  and  nothing  by 
which  he  can  direct  his  course.  He  begins  to  be  uncertain  of  the 
direction,  and  is  alarmed.  And  -with  alarm  comes  exertion — which 
makes  his  case  worse  and  worse.  His  course  is  devious  and  circui- 
tous. He  wanders  round  and  round.  His  own  very  track  is  covered 
almost  as  soon  as  made.  Often  and  often  he  is  in  the  same  place. 
He  is  moving  in  circuits,  though  he  thinks  himself  to  be  going  for- 
ward. He  grows  chilly  and  numb.  Drowsiness  steals  over  him. 
He  thinks  he  will  rest ;  though  he  knows  that  rest  will  be  his  death. 
He  thinks  he  must  sit  down  ;  yet  he  will  not.  And  just  as  the  strug- 
gle seems  about  to  be  decided  against  him,  he  discerns  a  light.  It 
is  faint,  and  somewhat  distant ;  but  it  is  enough.  With  faint  reso- 
lution he  follows  it.     And  he  stumbles,  at  last,  headlong,  as  it  were, 


THE  DOOR  277 

upon  the  'door  of  the  cottage  which  dimly  appeared  through  the 
desceuding  snow ;  and  his  very  violence  bursts  it  oj)en.  Una- 
ble to  sustain  himself,  he  sinks  down  as  one  dead.  And  he  is 
safe.  The  storm  is  behind  him,  and  he  has  found  rescue.  Not  by 
his  own  strength,  not  by  his  own  wisdom,  but  simply  by  the  protec- 
tion which  has  come  to  him  by  chance,  he-  is  saved. 

So  there  are  men  that  have  Avandered  in  this  world  from  church 
to  church,  from  theory  to  theory,  from  doctrine  to  doctrine,  from 
belief  to  belief,  from  belief  to  unbelief,  and  from  unbelief  to  restless 
yearning,  saying,  at  last,  "Who  will  show  us  any  good?"  Round 
and  round  they  wander,  over  their  own  paths  uudiscerned,  until  at 
last,  well-nigh  discouraged,  they  give  up.  But  for  all  this,  there 
comes  the  opening,  at  last,  of  a  door  through  which  streams  the 
light  of  Christ  Jesus.  There  comes  an  hour  to  many  a  doubting 
wanderer  when  Christ  is  presented  to  him  so  beauteous,  so  real,  that 
he  clasps  him.  And  as  one  will  not  give  up  a  dream  that  he  has 
dreamed,  so  sweet  was  it  to  him,  but  frames  it  into  a  picture,  and 
cherishes  it  in  his  memory,  so  men  looking  upon  Christ,  and  doubt- 
ing whether  he  be  a  reality  or  a  vision,  hold  on  to  the  brightness, 
the  joy  and  the  living  power,  of  Christ  Jesus,  and  thus  are  cured  of 
all  doubt. 

Many  men  come  to  me  to  be  argued  out  of  doubt.  I  argue  no 
man  out  of  doubt.  The  supreme  medicine  is  Christ  Jesus.  If 
there  is  any  way  in  which  you  can  get  rid  of  doubt,  it  is  by  coming 
into  Christ's  presence,  and  taking  hold  of  him.  You  need  nothing 
more.  The  vitality  of  God's  soul  cures  the  diseases  of  man's  soul. 
Every  thought  of  God  is  medicinal.  Every  impulsion  of  God  is 
curative.  Every  function  of  the  divine  mind  brings  health.  And 
what  men  need,  is,  not  mqre  reasoning,  nor  more  persuading,  nor  more 
showing,  but  more  Christ.     Love  cures ;  and  only  love  can  cure. 

4.  Christ  is  a  Door  to  those  who  in  religion  find  unexpected  joy 
and  heart-riches.  There  be  many  who  live  in  a  plain  way,  uncon- 
scious that  there  are  great  treasures  so  near  to  them,  and  are  brought 
unexpectedly  into  the  full  fruition  of  them.  The  inner  experience  of  a 
Christian  life,  to  many,  is  peculiarly  glad  and  joyous.  To  others, 
it  is  rather  a  struggle.  We  are  called  to  different  problems,  as  it 
were.  Some  men  are  not  so  much  called  to  joy  as  to  the  establish- 
ment of  foundations  for  joy  by  and  by ;  but  some,  who  are  harmo- 
niously developed,  and  felicitously  placed  in  life,  are  admitted  at 
once  into  the  full  ministration  of  Christian  joy.  And  they  are 
to  be  priests  unto  others.  As  they  begin  higher  up  than  others, 
more  is  to  be  expected  of  their  beneficence. 

A  young  man' sees,  in  a  laborious  farmer's  house — the  house  of  a 
man  of  small  means  but  immense  industry — a  daughter  of  marked 


278  THE  BOOB. 

excellence.  Her  mother  died  early.  She  has  been  in  the  place  of 
mother,  early  learning  care  and  responsibility.  She  has  worked 
early  and  late,  almost  without  the  thought  of  rest.  The  house  is 
plain,  and  the  rooms  are  plain ;  and,  though  there  lurks  in  her  the 
hidden  appetite  for  beauty,  save,  it  may  be,  some  chance  picture 
cut  from  a  magazine,  and  rudely  framed,  on  the  mantel,  there  is 
nothing  in  all  the  house,  or  ai'ound  it,  except  nature's  handiwork, 
that  satisfies  her  longing  for  sesthetic  beauty.  The  man  beholds. 
He  hides  his  circumstances.  He  hires  out,  and  toils  in  the  field. 
And,  seeing,  in  secrecy  and  in  familiar  scenes,  the  royalty  of  that 
which  he  believed  or  suspected,  at  last  he  woes  and  marries  her. 
Still  she  knows  him  not ;  biit  a  husband,  to  a  loving  heart,  is  a  hus- 
band. And  joyfully  she  goes  with  him.  She  goes  to  his  home,  not 
knowing  what  it  is.  They  approach,  and  she  marvels,  with  inno- 
cent wonder,  at  the  beauty  of  that  avenue ;  and  still  more  marvels 
when  he  turns  in.  She  looks  doubtingly  at  him  ;  for  at  the  other 
end  is  a  beautiful  mansion,  and  friends  are  standing  at  the  door. 
And,  or  ever  she  can  ask  a  question,  he  presses  her  to  his  heart,  and 
says,  "This,  darling,  is  our  own  home."  She  had  thought  to  go 
with  a  laborer  to  another  place  of  toil,  and  behold,  she  has  mar- 
ried a  rich  man ;  and  these  fair  grounds,  this  resplendent  house,  and 
this  joyous  greeting  are  for  her.  And  what  wonder,  what  surprise 
and  gladness,  all  the  more  because  of  the  contrast,  will  she  have — t^l 
the  novelty,  at  any  rate,  is  worn  off. 

How  many  there  are  who  go  to  Christ  thinking  they  go  to  duty ; 
who  go  to  him  as  a  man  goes  to  toil ;  who  go  to  him  as  one  goes  to 
a  captain  in  battle ;  who  go  to  him  as  one  goes  to"  a  taskmaster;  who 
go  to  him  willing,  earnest,  expecting  toil  and  suffering ;  who  go  to 
him  saying,  "  I  will  take  up  thy  cross ;"  apd  who  find  not  only  rest 
to  their  souls,  but  riches  that  they  had  not  expected !  No  love  ever 
rejoiced  at  the  unexpected  associations  of  love,  as  the  human  heart 
rejoices  at  the  knowledge  and  experience  which  Christ  gives  it,  as 
the  Door  is  opened,  and  one  goes  through  to  the  verity  of  faith. 

5.  One  familiar  aspect  in  the  Bible,  of  the  Door,  is  that  of  a  re- 
fuge, where  David  speaks  of  God  as  being  his  tower,  into  which  he 
runs,  and  is  safe.  He  represents  himself  as  having  been  overthrown 
in  battle,  and  pursued,  near  to  some  guarded  city,  where  the  gate- 
snan,  seeing  the  soldiers  scattered,  opens  it,  and  allows  them  to 
enter,  and  then  closes  it,  and  ghuts  out  their  pursuers.  How  many 
have  had  troubles  pursue  them  like  armed  men,  and  run  in  to  God, 
and  been  saved  ! 

Or,  as  one  is  traveling,  a  fearful  storm  gathers  ;  and  he,  amid  the 
sounds  of  thunder,  driving  amain,  speeds  with  all  his  might ;  and,  just 
as  the  drops  begin  to  descend,  with  an  inexpressible  sense  of  relief 


THE  DOOR.  279 

« 
and  rescue,  he  enters  the  door,  and  is  safe  under  the  sheltering  roof. 
So  God  is,  to  those  that  are  pursued  as  by  storms,  a  refuge  from 
their  troubles. 

6.  Christ  is  a  Door  for  wanderers.  The  vagrant  child  who  has 
made  proof  of  the  folly  of  his  course — another  prodigal  (and  happy 
are  they  who  have  not,  in  their  household,  or  in  the  circle  of  their 
friends,  some  commentary  on  the  exqiiisite  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son) — the  child  that  has  gone  away,  and  done  unworthily,  and  run 
through  one  circle  of  experience,  would  fain  be  cured.  He  hesi- 
tates ;  but  at  last  he  goes  back  to  his  home.  Uncertain  as  to  how 
his  father  will  receive  him,*  he  stands  at  the  door,  waiting.  When, 
taking  courage,  and  ringing  the  bell,  Jiis  father  opens  the  door,  he 
looks  at  him  with  surprise.  He  hears  not  a  word.  He  feels  the 
warm  pressure  of  the  surrounding  arm.  The  child  is  home  P.gain, 
unspeakably  repentant  because  unspeakably  grateful. 

Or,  the  child  has  gone  honorably  away  from  home,  on  a  long  voy- 
age, for  health,  or  for  pleasure ;  and  who  can  tell  what  thoughts 
and  dreams  he  has  of  home  ?  And  on  the  sea,  even  in  the  midst 
of  obnoxious  sickness,  one  still  has  some  comfort  in  thinking  of 
home.  And  when,  returning,  one  lands,  how  the  hours  linger  !  How 
no  conveyance  can  carry  him  swiftly  enough  toward  home  !  And 
when,  at  last,  the  village  is  reached,  how  with  ecstatic  excitement 
one  draws  near  the  door !  And  how  sweet  and  blessed  it  is  to  be 
at  home  again ! 

But  ah  !  all  these  are  very  poor  instances.  Children  wander  worse 
than  that,  when  daughters  wander  from  home,  and  from  themselves, 
and  from  God,  and  from  purity,  and  run  through  a  giddy  and  brief 
career,  until,  shattered  in  body,  as  before  they  were  shattered  in 
heart  and  mind,  cast  out  and  despised,  and  loathed  by  the  wretches 
that  have  destroyed  them,  they  lie  down  to  die.  But  then  they  are 
found.  For  what  shall  measure  a  mother's  love,  who  would  go  down 
to  the  gates  of  hell  to  save  a  daughter,  and  who  brings  back  the 
miserable  creature,  and  lays  her  in  the  very  little  room  where  she 
learned  to  say  her  prayers,  and  night  and  day  watches  over  her,. and 
teaches  her  feeble  lips  to  pronounce  again,  and  now  with  some  hope, 
the  adored  name  of  the  Saviour  ?  And  who  shall  tell  wh[|t,  to  that 
child,  is  such  a  home  ?  And  what  the  open  door  of  home  is  to  the 
penitent,  that  Christ  Jesus  is  to  those  who  have  gone  from  home. 
To  the  worst,  to  the  wickedest,  to  the  longest  wandering,  to  those 
that  are  least  worthy  to  return,  and  to  those  that  bring  back  nothing 
but  ruin,  the  Door  is  open ;  and  Christ  is  the  loving  parent  who 
receives  them  all. 

I  beseech  you,  in  closing,  not  to  mistake  any  other  door  for 
Christ.     Sometimes  we  speak  of  the  church  as  a  door :  and  in  some 


280  THE  DOOR. 

« 
sense  it  may  be  so  regarded.  If,  however,  studiously,  and  on  pur- 
pose, we  represent  the  church  as  the  door  of  heaven,  we  take  away 
the  Saviour,  and  put  in  his  place  a  man-built  institution.  The  prin- 
ciple of  the  church  is  divine ;  but  all  church  forms  are  absolute  hu- 
man inventions.  There  is  no  church  on  earth  whose  outward  forms 
and  ordinances  are  not  purely  of  man's  finding  out — man's  devices. 
They  are  none  the  worse  for  that ;  it  is  as  God  meant  it  should  be  ; 
but  it  is  only  the  principle  that  is  divine.  The  need  of  association, 
the  need  of  home-feeling  in  the  midst  of  those  who  have  hope  in  t4ie 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  divinely  implanted.  The  mode  of  association, 
like  the  mode  of  housekeeping,  is  left  to  the  liberty  of  all  those  who 
are  sincerely  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  yet  there  be 
some  who  teach  us  that  the  earthly  church,  composed  of  human 
beings,  surrounded  with  human  devices,  human  ordinances,  human 
governments,  human  systems,  is  the  Door.  Never  !  Never  !  Christ 
is  the  Door.  No  organization  can  take  his  place.  None  can  repre- 
sent him,  even.  We  may  make  use  of  the  church  as  we  make  use 
of  a  hotel  when  we  are  traveling  home  to  see  father  and  mother ; 
but  no  landlord  of  any  hotel  shall  tell  me  that  he  is  my  father,  or 
my  mother,  or  that  his"  hotel  is  my  home.  Churches  are  God's 
hotels,  where  travelers  put  up  for  the  night,  as  it  were,  and  then 
speed  on  their  way  home.  Christ  is  the  one  Door.  All  that  pass 
through  that  Door  are  of  the 'one  church,  and  belong  to  him. 

Let,  then,  no  man  put  an  ordinance  in  the  place  of  the  Saviour. 
Let  no  man  put  a  doctrine  in  the  place  of  faith  and  love.  Let  no 
man  put  the  church,  a  human  organization,  in  the  place  of  the  soul's 
only  hope  and  rescue — Jesus,  the  beloved.  Christ  is  the  Door,  and 
the  only  Door  that  is  open  to  the  soul  of  man.  This  is  the  Door,  here 
xipon  earth,  while  yet  we  are  stumbling  in  the  way  of  duty,  and 
striving  to  live  aright. 

But,  blessed  be  his  name !  Christ  is  the  Door,  still  more,  of  death. 
You  know  that  gate  which  is  spoken  of  in  the  Apocalypse — that 
gate  more  resplendent  than  ever  cunning  wit  carved  among  men — 
th^  gate  of  pearl — one  great  pearl !  It  is  called  the  gate  of  heaven, 
because  it  is  the  gate  of  death.  And  yet,  men  go  wandering  on  the 
road,  an^  wondering  what  the  experience  may  be,  and  what  the  gate 
of  issuing  is.  The  opening  of  the  pearly  gate — that  is  dying.  Going 
out  into  life — that  is  dying.  Finding  Christ,  and  being  found  of 
him  in  the  moment  when,  the  body  dropping  its  vail  from  before  the 
eye,  and  the  spiritual  sense  opening,  we  can  take  hold  of  the  great 
realities,  and  the  only  realities  above  us — that  is  dying.  Christ  is 
the  Door  out  of  life.  As  he  has  been  the  Door  of  faith  and  love  in 
life,  so  he  is  the  Door  of  exit.  The  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  for  his 
own  is  death.     And  when  men  are  death-struck,  they  are  death- 


THE  DOOR.  281 

called ;  and  when  men  are  death-called,  they  are  God-called  ;  and 
when  they  are  Ood-called,  they  are  Christ-found.  And  as  we  have 
had  Christ  in  life,  we  are  to  have  him  in  dying.  Through  him  we 
shall  die  valiantly.  And  he  is  the  Door  to  men.  He  is  the  blessed 
Door  of  reception ;  and  he  shall  stand  for  all  those  that  have  put 
their  faith  in  him,  for  all  those  that  have  trusted  him,  in  that  great 
invisible  world,  when,  utter  strangers,  we  shall  find  oiirselves  well- 
known — nay,  shall  know  even  as  we  are  known.  There  we  shall 
find  ourselves ;  there  we  shall  find  our  children  ;  there  we  shall  find 
our  most  honored  companions  ;  there  we  shall  find  our  best  love ; 
there  we  shall  find  our  souls'  life ;  there,  with  God,  we  shall  rest 
from  temptation,  from  unmanly  defection  ;  and  our  every  aspiration 
shall  be  fulfilled,  and  our  joy  shall  be  completed  in  over-measure  for- 
ever and  ever. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Thou  ever-blessed  and  eternal  God,  we  tliank  thee  for  the  revelation  which 
thou  hast  made  of  thyself,  far  down  through  ranks  of  being.  Thou  hast  been 
pleased  to  reach  unto  us.  Not  below  us  shines  the  light  of  truth  and  knowledge 
We,  brought  up,  at  last  have  met  the  light  in  oui;  sphere.  We  are  taught 
of  thee  and  of  ourselves.  We  are  pointed  to  the  bright  and  blessed  immortality 
beyond.  All  our  sorrows  are  assuaged  by  its  promises.  All  our  joys  are  quick- 
ened in  its  glory.  But  thou,  O  God !  by  thy  living  presence,  by  thy  sympathy,  by 
thy  helpfulness,  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  dost  chiefly  help  ;  for  it  is 
what  we  receive,  it  is  what  thou  dost  help  us  to  do,  and  not  what  we  work  out 
by  our  own  thought,  nor  what  nature  inspires,  that  makes  us  strong,  and  wise,  and 
rich.  We  rejoice  in  thy  Fatherhood.  We  rejoice  in  the  benignity  of  thy  gov- 
ernment. Nature  is  full  of  thunders  and  threats ;  and  the  law,  everywhere,  un- 
der our  feet,  and  in  our  bodies,  and  in  the  world  which  we  inhabit,  pursues  every 
transgressor.  The  law  of  the  soul,  and  the  law  of  the  mind,  and  the  law  of  the 
flesh,  work  together  for  perpetual  punishment ;  and  we  are  under  perpetual  con- 
demnation. But  already,  and  all  the  time,  from  thee  comes  the  blessed  word,  "  I 
have  found  a  ransom."  From  thee  is  remission  and  help.  Thou  dost  set  us  free 
from  the  penalties  which  we  are  incurring  from  day  to  day.  For  thou  knowest 
that  what  nature  could  not  do  thou  canst ;  that  what  nature  will  not  dp  thou 
wilt.  And  thou  art  healing,  and  vrilt  heal,  by  that  which  thou  art  in  thyself.  By 
thy  soul  upon  our  soul ;  by  the  medicine  of  thy  thought  upon  our  distempered 
thought ;  by  thy  love  upon  our  imperfect  and  impure  love,  thou  wilt  heal  us. 
Thou  wilt  augment  in  us  the  sum  of  manhood.  Thou  wilt  lift  us  further  and 
further  up  above  the  flesh,  and  the  passions  thereof,  into  a  nobler  and  serener 
manhood,  where  is  liberty  ;  where  is  communion  ;  where  we  ourselves  Are  in  our 
blessed  and  full  estate  ;  and  where  only  we  can  find  ourselves.  And  for  this  new 
and  higher  birth,  for  tliis  recreation,  for  this  spiritual  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus, 
how  shall  we  enough  thank  thee  ?  Oh !  that  men  might  see  the  precious  heri- 
tfige  that  they  are  casting  away,  or  neglecting !  Oh !  that  men  might  rise  out  of 
their  sloth  and  their  slumbers,  out  of  the  besetments  of  temptation  and  pleasure 


282  THE  DOOB. 

in  this  World,  and  tliat  tliey  might  come  to  their  own  selves,  with  repentance 
and  sorrow  for  the  past,  and  with  Christian  wisdom  and  purpose  for  the  future  I 
Oh  !  that  they  might  begin  that  life  by  which  they  shall  hold  commimion  with 
thee,  and  have  joy  and  peace  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory  1 

Suffer  none  to  be  tempted  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear.  Suffer  none  to  be 
swept  away  by  under-currents.  Suffer  none  to  be  corrupted  within,  while  the 
form  of  morality  and  beauty  is  perfect  without — apples  of  Sodom,  heantiful  tcith- 
out,  and  ashes  icitMn.  Suffer  none,  we  beseech  of  thee,  with  vain  procrastina- 
tion, with  conceits  of  their  own  excellence,  and  pride  therein,  to  waste  time  and 
growth  in  manhood.  Though  it  be  late  for  some,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou 
wilt  bring  them,  in  the  very  autumn  of  their  days,  into  a  better  way.  May  those 
that  are  in  the  midst  of  life  gird  themselves  anew  with  the  strength  which  is 
from  thee.  May  all  that  are  in  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  have  ministered 
to  them  this  higher  and  better  strength  which  nature  knows  not. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  God !  that  thou  wilt  comfort  those  in  our 
presence  who  are  most  needy  of  comfort.  Look  after  those  that  are  most  per- 
plexed, after  those  that  are  harrowed  by  care,  and  after  those  that  suffer  anxiety. 
Look  after  those,  we  beseech  of  thee,  to  strengthen  them,  upon  whom  the  yoke 
bears  hard,  and  the  burden  presses  with  downward  weight. 

O  Lord !  thou  hast  made  promises  to  all  that  put  their  trust  in  thee,  that  thou 
wouldst  renew  their  strength.  Be  gracious,  and  fulfill  thy  promises  to  many  to- 
day. Cleanse  those  whose  hearts  have  come  up  hither  laden  with  troiible.  Com- 
fort those  that  are  as  shrubs,  when  rains  have  fallen,  every  leaf  weeping.  Shake 
them,  that  every  leaf  may  cast  off  its  tears,  and  that  only  refreshment  may  come 
from  the  down-sweeping  storm  upon  them. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  those  who  are  cast  about,  and  tried,  and  know  not 
■which  way  to  go,  may  yet,  though  there  may  not  be  open  before  them  the  way 
of  outward  prosperity,  have  an  anchor-ground  in  thee.  May  they  no  longer  be 
strangers.     May  they  be  children  brought  home  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Comfort  any  that  are  feeble.  Be  with  any  that  are  sick,  and  console  them. 
And  if  long  patience  is  required,  in  thy  providence,  for  long-continued  infirmities 
of  sin,  grant  that  they  may  have  that  patience,  and  that  it  may  have  its  perfect 
work.  Prepare  for  death  those  who  are  to  depart,  and  prepare  for  life  those  who 
are  passing  from  sickness  to  health.  And  grant  that  none  of  these  outward 
things,  none  of  the  dealings  of  God,  through  nature,  with  the  flesh,  may  sepa- 
rate between  the  soul  and  thee.  May  men  not  murmur  nor  complain.  May  they 
not  look  at  the  narrowness  of  their  lot  here,  for  whom  is  reserved  the  blessings 
of  their  Father's  house.  And  grant  that  none  may  envy  others^  and  pine  at  the 
prosperity  of  men  round  about  them.  May  they  be  content  to  stand  where  the 
dear  Lord  has  put  them,  and  fulfill  the  office  that  he  needs  some  one  to  fulfill. 
May  none  proudly  swell,  and  ask  why  he  should  suffer.  Shall  the  disciple  be 
greater  than  his  Lord  ?  If  thou  didst  go  down  to  the  lowest  and  tlie  least,  and 
didst  cheerfully  walk  the  bottom  way,  to  the  very  ignominy  of  death,  shall  any 
refuse  to  follow  thee — thou  pure  and  spotless,  they  stained  with  sin  ;  thou  bear- 
ing others'  trouble,  they  bearing  their  own  transgressions  ? 

Rebuke  pride.  Rebuke  every  unreasonable  and  wicked  disposition  of  our 
hearts.  And  grant,  O  Lord  our  God !  that  we  may  be  grateful  every  day,  and 
content  every  day  ;  that  we  may  become  ineek,  and  gentle,  and  hopeful,  and 
truthful,  and  loving,  knowing  that  the  time  can  not  be  far  away,  but  that  the 
gate  is  already  ajar,  and  is  soon  to  be  opened.  It  is  opened  for  one  and  another, 
and  they  fly  thither  from  the  winter  storm,  and  are  safe.  For  others  still  it  will 
be  opened,  and  for  us.    And  may  we  not  be  discontented.    Already  come  within 


TEE  BOOB.  283 

Biglit  of  it,  almost  within  sound  of  tlie  joys  beliind  tlie  gate,  grant  tliat  we  may 
be  content.  Oli  1  let  us  not  cast  away  now,  vilely,  our  hope  or  our  confidence  ; 
and  may  we  lean  more  heavily  than  ever  upon  thee,  for  all  the  earth  can  not 
burden  the  omnipotence  of  thine  arm.  Thou  that  bearesl  up  the  universe — may 
we  lean  npon  thee  wholly.  May  we  cast  our  burdens  and  our  cares  upon  thee, 
and  WBlk  careless,  since  God  cares  for  us. 

Bless  us,  we  beseech  of  thee,  in  the  further  services  of  the  day.  Remember 
the  Sabbath-schools  under  the  charge  of  this  church.  Remember  the  superin- 
tendents, the  officers,  the  teachers,  and  the  children.  And  we  pray  that  the  dis- 
semination of  the  truth  may  be  perpetually  a  life-giving  work.  Accept  our 
thanks  for  the  great  good  already  done.  The  fields  that  open  are  almost  beyond 
employment ;  and  grant  that  more  and  more  may  be  stirred  up  to  give  their  time 
and  wisdom  and  hearts'  treasure  for  those  that  are  needy. 

And  we  pray  that  thy  kingdom  may  come  everywhere,  and  that  thy  will  may 
be  done  throughout  all  the  earth.  And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMON. 

Qkant  unto  us,  0  Lord  our  God  !  that  light  of  faith  by  which  we  shall  dis- 
cern thee  in  every  thing.  Art  not  thou  the  Tree  of  life  to  us  ?  Dost  thou  not 
give  shadows  as  the  trees  do  ?  But  when  winter  comes,  then  thou  art  not  the  tree 
that  with  shadow  brings  chill.  Thou  art  the  very  sun.  Thou  art  our  warmth 
and  our  light.  Thou  art,  0  Lord !  our  food.  The  bread  whose  wheat,  crushed 
and  ground  for  us,  is  made  into  sustenance  and  life — that  art  thou.  Thou  art 
our  rest  and  our  home.  A  yoke  and  a  burden  thou  art ;  and  yet  bearing  thy 
yoke  and  thy  burden,  we  find  that  full  harvests  follow  our  plowing  and  our  toil, 
and  we  sit  in  the  midst  of  unexpected  abundance.  When  we  are  faint,  thou  art 
the  water  of  life  to  comfort  us.  Thou  art  our  star,  shining  in  the  darkness,  and 
telling  us  the  way  when  we  are  lost.  Though  we  can  not  see  what  it  is,  we  fol- 
low its  light  without  questioning,  and  are  rescued.  Thou  art  our  home ;  and  the 
door  leading  into  it  thou  art.     Thou  art  all  in  all ! 

We  thank  thee  for  the  fullness  of  thy  offices ;  for  the  wonder  of  thy  love. 
Some  faint  knowledge  of  this  we  have  in  our  own  feelings  toward  our  children. 
What  is  there  that  we  do  not  desire  for  them  ?  What  is  there  that  we  do  not  bear  for 
them  ?  What  is  there  that  we  do  not  feel  fur  them  ?  What  is  there  in  their  well- 
doing that  does  not  bring  to  us  exquisite  gladness  and  joy  ?  But  we  are  dull,  and 
dumb,  and  selfish,  and  poor,  and  do  not  know  how  to  be  good. 

What  is  this  feeling  when  exalted  into  the  infirute  realms  of  divine  Father- 
hood ?  Oh !  what  are  thy  desires  and  yearnings  for  us  ?  Oh !  what  a  tide  must 
that  soul-tide  be  which  draws  us  toward  thee  I  0  Lord  God  !  grant  that  we  may 
have  a  more  worthy  and  cheering  and  comforting  sense  of  thy  Fatherhood,  and 
of  the  blessedness  of  thy  love  for  us.  May  we  not  think  it  strange  that  one  so 
great,  and  good  should  think  of  us ;  for  what  greatness  is  there  in  the  parent  that 
despises  the  helplessness  of  the  infant  child  ?  We  are  thy  children  ;  and  we  did 
not  make  ourselves  ;  thou  didst  create  us,  and  the  world  in  which  we  dwell  is  thy 
world  ;  and  the  providences  and  experiences  therein  are  thy  providences  and  ex- 
periences. 0  Lord !  thou  dost  love  us,  and  thou  dost  care  for  us,  and  thou  art 
sheltering  us  and  protecting  us,  and  thou  art,  by  joy,  and  by  sorrow,  which  is  bet- 
ter than  joy,  preparing  us  for  an  entrance  into  thine  heavenly  kingdom. 


284  TEE  DOOR 

Oh !  let  us  not  throw  away  this  faith.  Let  us  not  come  short  of  this  blessed 
realization.  May  we  understand  thee,  accept  thee,  and  follow  thy  laws  confidently, 
and  rejoice  here,  and  rejoice  forever  with  thee.  And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise 
in  heaven.  When  we  see  thee  face  to  face,  when  we  see  thee  as  thou  art,  when 
all  that  are  dearest  to  us  are  round  about  thee,  then  thou  shalt  be  the  Chief  among 
ten  thousand,  and  altogether  lovely.  Then  we  will  cast  our  crowns  at  thy  feet,  and 
Bay,  Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  to  thy  name,  shall  be  the  praise  of  our  salva- 
tion, forever  and  forever.    Amen. 


XYII. 

Moral  Theory  of  Civil  Liberty 


MOML  THEORY  OF  CIYIL  LIBERTY. 

SUNDAY  EVENING,  JULY    4,  1869. 


,"  While  they  promise  them  liberty,  they  themselves  are  the  servants  of  cor- 
ruption :  for  of  whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  the  same  is  he  brought  into  bond- 
age."—3    Pet.  ii.  19. 


This  is  a  true  delineation  of  the  fact  that  animalism  leads  to  des- 
potism, and  necessitates  it ;  and  the  whole  chapter,  which  I  read  as 
the  opening  service  of  the  evening,  illustrates  that  important  and 
fundamental  idea. 

This  day,  which  is  our  National  Anniversary,  will  very  naturally 
suggest  my  subject  this  evening. 

There  are  two  essential  conditions  of  civil  liberty:  first,  self- 
government,  and  second,  the  civil  machinery  of  free  national  life. 
And  in  importance  they  stand  in  the  order  in  which  I  have  men- 
tioned them. 

Self-government  is  a  better  term  than  liberty.  We  are  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  of  certain  nations  as  free  people.  It  would  be  bet- 
ter to  speak  of  them  as  self -governing  people.  There  is  no  such  thing 
as  absolute  liberty.  It  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  very  creative 
notion  which  we  express.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute  liberty 
in  one's  self ;  because  there  is  an  order  of  faculty  in  every  man,  by  the 
observance  of  which  he  can  reap  happiness,  and  by  the  disregard  of 
which  he  will  entail  on  himself  misery.  That  this  is  so  of  the  body, 
we  all  know.  That  we  are  obliged  to  obey  the  laws  of  the  ear,  of 
the  eye,  of  the  mouth,  and  of  the  hand,  in  order  to  reap  the  benefits 
of  these  organs,  we  all  know.  We  can  not  go  backward  upon  the 
organization  of  the  body,  and  have  health  and  comfort.  We  gain 
strength  and  bodily  ease  and  comfort  in  proportion  as  we  obey  law. 
We  are  not,  therefore,  free  physically,  in  regard  to  the  body ;  and 
just  as  little  are  we  free  mentally  ;  for  there  is  an  order  within,  which 
is  as  real,  and  the  observance  of  which  is  as  indispensable  to  comfort 
and  liberty,  as  tlie  order  of  the  body  and  its  physical  organization. 

Nor  are  we  absolutely  free  in  our  relations  to  the  material  world. 
Pliysical  laws  round  about  us  are  more  potent  than  walls  in  a  pri- 
Lesson:  2  Pet.  ii.    Htmns  (Plymouth Collection):  1040, 1033, 1004. 


286  MOBAL   TEEOBT  OF  CIVIL  LIBEBTT. 

son  are  round  about  the  prisoner.  Do,  obey,  and  live :  disobey, 
and  die.  A  man  is  hedged  up  in  his  own  nature ;  and  he  is  hedged 
up  just  as  much  in  the  world  in  which  he  was  born,  and  in  which 
be  moves.  The  laws  of  society — not  enacted  and  voluntary  laws,  but 
inevitable  civil  laws ;  those  laws  which  existed,  prior  to  all  human 
thought  about  law,  and  compelled  men  to  think  as  they  did  think ; 
the  laws  which  regulate  the  act  of  living  together  in  great  masses — 
these  laws  can*  not  be  set  at  naught,  or  be  disregarded.  Society  is 
not  a  voluntary  compact.  You  might  as  well  say  that  men  are  born 
on  compact,  as  to  say  that  society  is  the  result  of  agreements  among 
men.  The  nature  of  the  individual  man  could  never  have  been  devel- 
oped except  by  his  position  in  society.  Men  are  necessary  to  each 
other.  The  faculties  would  grow  dumb  and  dead,  if  it  were  not  for 
that  help  which  they  get  in  the  expression  of  themselves  by  the  fact 
of  civil  society.  This  state  of  things  is  the  design  of  God ;  it  is  the 
constituted  nature  of  human  life  ;  and  the  laws  that  regulate  it  are 
imperious.  So  that  man  is  a  creature  standing  in  a  circle,  once,  twice, 
thrice  repeated  round  about  him — laws  in  his  own  organization, 
laws  in  the  material  world,  and  laws  in  the  physical  world,  which 
demark  the  bounds  beyond  which  he  can  not  pass — and  all  his  liber- 
ty lies  in  the  small  space  that  remains  in  the  centre.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain liberty  which  a  man  can  exercise ;  but  the  extent  of  that  liberty 
is  very  small.     It  is  choosing  among  imperative  things. 

All  these  restraints  would  seem  to  be  restraints  upon  the  sum  of 
life  an,d  individual  power ;  but  if  you  analyze  it,  if  you  look  at  it  in 
the  root,  it  will  be  found  that,  while  there  is  no  such  thing  as  abso- 
lute liberty,  these  restraints  all  work  primarily  against  the  animal 
nature.  All  these  laws,  whether  in  a  man's  own  self,  in  his  physical 
relations,  or  in  his  relations  to  his  fellows  in  civil  society,  are  laws 
which  diminish  the  liberty,  primarily  and  principally,  of  the  passions 
and  the  appetites.  And  by  as  much  as  you  diminish  the  power  and 
dominancy  of  these  elements  in  man,  you  give  power  and  liberty  to 
the  other  parts — to  his  reason,  affections,  and  moral  sentiments.  So 
that  while  a  man  is  restricted  at  the  bottom,  he  spreads  out  at  the 
top,  and  gains  again,  with  amplitude  and  augmentation,  in  the  higher 
realms  of  his  being,  all  that  he  loses  by  the  i*estraints  and  restrictions 
which  are  imj^osed  by  great  cardinal  laws  upon  his  lower  nature. 

He,  then,  who  is  self-governed — that  is,  who  accepts  his  condi- 
tion, obeys  all  these  laws,  and  holds  himself  willingly  subject  to 
them — is  free ;  not  in  the  points  in  which  he  is  restricted,  but  in 
other  and  equivalent  directions,  in  which  a  man's  life  is  more  to  him 
than  his  basilar  life  can  be. 

All  these  restraints,  therefore,  in  an  intelligent  and  virtuous  soci- 
ety, will  be  found  to  fall  on  the  animal  propensities,  and  to  set  free, 


MORAL   THEOBY,  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  287 

by  their  very  limitation,  the  other  part  of  human  nature — its  man- 
hood, its  divinity. 

The  more  effectually,  then,  these  lower  elements  are  repressed, 
the  more  liberty  is  given  to  the  affections.  The  degree  of  liberty 
attainable  by  an  individual  depends  upon  the  restraint  which  he  puts 
upon  the  lower  nature,  and  the  stimulus  which  he  gives  to  the  high- 
er. The  liberty  which  is  attainable  by  masses  of  men  living  toge- 
ther depends  on  the  training  that  the  society  which  they  constitute 
has  had  in  keeping  down  the  animalism  and  exalting  the  true  man- 
hood of  the  citizens  in  the  community.  If  each  man,  and  all  men, 
have  learned  self-restraint,  then  there  will  be  need  of  but  very  little 
restraint  on  the  part  of  the  government;  but  if  self-restraint  does  not 
exist  in  the  body  of  citizens,  it  must  be  supplied  from  without.  If 
men  govern  the  animal  that  is  in  them,  on  which  the  soul  sits  astride, 
like  the  rider  upon  his  steed,  then  they  are  governed.  If  they  will 
not  govern  it,  it  must  be  governed  for  them.  Government  there 
must  be,  in  some  way,  if  men  are  going  to  live  together.  Society 
would  break  up  in  uproar ;  it  would  be  like  a  den  of  tigers  and  lions  ; 
it  would  be  but  a  bestial  wallow  of  swine  quarreling  for  their  food, 
and  quarreling  for  their  warmth  of  a  winter's  night,  and  quarreling 
evermore,  if  .there  were  no  government.  To  live  together  as  men, 
and  in  such  a  way  that  men  can  exercise  their  higher  prerogatives, 
the  lower  elements  of  the  human  organization  must  be  governed. 
If  men  would  govern  these  lower  elements  themselves,  there  would 
be  no  need  of  bringing  in  any  other  instrument  of  government ;  but 
if  they  will  not  do  it,  it  must  be  done  by  some  other  agency. 

Despotisni  is  the  inevitable  government  of  ignorant  and  savage 
natures.  It  is  not  that  the  monarch,  seeing  his  power,  takes  it  upon  ' 
himself  to  govern  the  rude  in  their  helplessness ;  it  is  this,  that  the 
men  who  represent  in  themselves  only  animal  qualities  are  properly 
governed  by  absolute  government.  The  animal  nature  in  men  must 
be  governed  by  force,  unless  they  govern  it  by  their  own  intelligent 
and  free  will.  Therefore  a  low  and  animal  condition  of  national  life 
is  properly  crowned  and  dominated  by  despotism.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances it  is  not  a  usurpation ;  it  is  not  a  mischief;  it  is  precisely 
adapted  to  the  work  that  is  to  be  done.  And  an  indispensable  work 
it  is. 

Society  can  not  be  free,  then,  except  as  the  reason  and  the  moral 
sentiments  have  a  sufficient  ascendency.  You  have  often  heard  it 
said  that  a  free  government  depends  upon  the  intelligence  and  vir- 
tue of  the  citizens.  This  is  an  empirical  fact.  It  is  in  accordance 
with  the  radical  nature  of  man  that  it  should  be  so.  The  first  and 
most  important  condition  of  liberty,  psychologically  stated,  is  that 
men  should  learn  how  to  restrain  their  lower,   basilar,   passional 


288  MORAL  THEORY  OB  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

natures,  and  should  be  -willing  to  restrain  them,  and  so  give  liberty 
to  their  reason,  their  affections,  and  their  moi*al  sentiments. 

The  other  condition  which  we  mentioned  as  indispensable  to  civil 
liberty  is  the  possession  of  the  machinery  of  free  civil  society.  There 
is  to  be  the  presence  of  laws  adapted  to  that  state  of  things,  and 
there  is  to  be  a  knowledge  of  those  laws.  The  methods  and  limita- 
tions by  which  the  popular  will  is  ascertained  and  expressed ;  the 
devices  which  the  experience  of  ages  has  invented  for  the  reason  and 
the  moral  sentiments  of  the  masses  to  adjudicate  and  decide  ques- 
tions of  i^ublic  policy ;  the  methods  by  which  a  free  people  execute 
the  i^urposes  which  they  have  determined  upon — all  these  are  ele- 
ments indispensable  to  libei'ty.  Laws,  courts,  legislatures,  all 
forms  of  popular  assemblies  ;  freedom  of  speech,  and  its  proper  limi- 
tations— these  are  things  which,  since  we  possessed  them  when  we 
were  born,  we  scarcely  have  analyzed.  They  have  been  of  slow 
growth.  It  took  the  world  a  great  while  to  find  out  what  laws  were 
right  and  proper  for  a  free  people.  Ages  were  employed  in  exj^eriment- 
ing  and  finding  out  what  was  the  mode  by  Avhich  a  free  people  might 
discuss,  deliberate  upon,  and  decide  their  own  questions  of  policy.  It 
has  been  a  slow  invention,  improved  and  improving  from  age  to  age. 
The  whole  retinue  of  apparatus  by  which  a  free  people  acted  in  pub- 
lic affairs,  executed  their  laws,  expressed  their  will,  and  maintained 
their  purposes,  has  been  slowly  invented  and  perfected ;  and  it  has 
risen,  in  these  latter  years,  so  near  to  the  finishing  touches,  that  it  may 
now  be  said  that  the  world  knows  how  to  secure  to  itself  that  self- 
government,  and  that  liberty  in  it,  which  it  has  always  been  sighing 
for,  and  has  attempted  to  gain,  but  has  lost,  first  because  it  did  not 
know  the  psychological  conditions  on  which  true  civil  liberty  de- 
pended, and  second,  because  it  did  not  know  what  the  machinery 
was  by  which  society  should  execute  its  purposes  in  liberty. 

These  two  elementary  conditions — the  moral  condition  of  the 
people,  and  the  apparatus  of  civil  government  adapted  to  freedom — 
must  unite  and  cooperate,  before  there  can  be  any  permanent  civil 
liberty  in  any  nation. 

On  this  foundation,  I  remark, 

1 .  Tlie  desire  to  be  free  is  not  a  basis  broad  enough  for  liberty. 
It  is  broad  enough  for  poems,  it  is  broad  enough  for  romances  ;  but 
it  is  not  broad  enough  to  be  a  foundation  for  liberty.  The  desire  to 
be  free,  and  the  art  of  being  free,  are  two  very  different  things.  All 
men  like  liberty,  if  by  that  expression  is  meant  dislike  of  restraint ; 
but  if  the  love  of  liberty  means  the  rejjression  of  all  one's  lower  na- 
ture, and  the  education  and  dominancy  of  all  one's  higher  nature,  then 
I  deny  that  men  desire  liberty.  If  the  love  of  liberty  means  the 
willingness  of  men  to  restrain  that  which  is  oppugnant  to  their  true 


MORAL   THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  289 

raanKood,  then  I  say  that  men  are  educaterl  to  love  liberty.  Tlie 
love  of  liberty  is  not  a  primarj'-  quality.  It  is,  like  virtue  and  reli- 
gion, the  result  of  culture  in  men.  To  say  that  a  man  does  not  like 
to  be  opjiressed,  is  not  to  say  that  he  loves  liberty.  If  that  be  liber- 
ty, who  loves  liberty  more  than  the  tyrant  ?  If  the  love  of  liberty 
is  the  desire  that  you  shall  have  nobody  above  you,  nobody  to  dic- 
tate to  you,  then  the  greatest  lovers  of  liberty  are  the  despots,  who 
do  not  want  any  body  over  them,  or  on  either  side  of  them,  but  who 
want  every  body  under  them.  The  love  of  liberty  is  a  virtue.  It  is 
a  moral  inspiration.  It  carries  with  it  the  highest  exercise  of  the  rea- 
son, and  the  noblest  exercise  of  the  moral  sentiments.  It  is  not  merely 
a  wild  disposition  to  throw  away  government ;  it  is  a  disposition  to 
supersede  the  necessity  of  an  outward  government  by  the  reality  of  a 
government  within.  The  natural  impulses  which  we  see  in  savages  ; 
the  tendencies  which  we  see  in  individual  men — these  ought  not  to 
be  called  the  love  of  liberty.  They  are  far  removed  from  it.  They 
are  utterly  foreign  to  it. 

Let  me  see  a  man  that  loves  liberty,  and  I  shall  see  a  man  that 
loves  freedom  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  others.  For  that  process 
by  which  a  man  learns  truly  to  love  liberty  in  the  proper  and  Chris- 
tian acceptation  of  the  term,  is  a  process  which  necessitates  the  bene- 
volent desire  of  liberty  for  others  as  well  as  for  one's  self.  And 
when  it  takes  on  this  form,  mankind  and  manhood  have  advanced 
far  along  the  road  of  intelligence  and  true  piety. 

2.  The  adoption  of  free  governments  by  an  untrained  and  unre- 
strained people  will  not  secure  liberty  to  them.  We  rejoice  at  the 
outbreak  of  a  rebellion  against  tyranny.  I  rejoice ;  you  rejoice.  Nobody 
can  help  it.  So  badly  are  the  best  governments  conducted  that  we  get 
some  measure  from  them  of  the  mischiefs  of  bad  governments.  If  a 
good  government,  a  government  as  good  as  that  at  Albany,  is  so 
corriipt  and  abominable ;  if  courts  that  are  so  pure  and  spotless  as 
those  of  New- York  do  sometimes  trip,  what  must  be  the  condition  of 
government  in  communities  that  do  not  boast  of  justice  on  the  Fourth 
of  July  half  as  much  as  we  do  ?  "What  must  it  be  in  Asia  ?  What 
must  it  be  in  Africa  ?  When  I  see  that  in  a  nation  where  the  people 
are  oppressed,  the  bottom  has  exploded,  and  the  crude  masses  have 
risen  up  and  thrown  down  their  tyrant,  I  am  always  glad  of  it.  I 
am  glad,  not  because  I  expect  the  people  will  be  so  much  better,  but 
because  one  bad  man  has  got  his  dues  !  The  gladness  consists  in  the 
gratification  of  the  instinct  of  avenging  justice,  rather  than  in  the 
conviction  that  the  overthrow  of  one  tyrant,  or  a  dozen,  will  secure 
to  a  people  their  true  liberty.  Liberty  does  not  come  from  machin- 
eries, though  it  uses  them,  and  must  have  them.  You  might  build 
a  hundred  cotton  factories  in  the  wilderness  where  the  Indians  are, 


290  MORAL   TEEOBY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

and  the  Indians  would  not  on  that  account  be  an  ingenious  and 
manufacturing  people.  Tlie  manufacturer  must  precede  the  ma- 
chinery, and  know  how  to  use  it.  You  might  carry  cannon,  and 
muskets,  and  rifles,  and  endless  magazines  of  ammunition,  into  the 
midst  of  a  peace-loving  and  cowardly  nation,  and  that  would  not 
make  them  a  warlike  people.  The  instruments  do  not  make  cour- 
age, though  where  there  is  courage  the  instruments  are  indispensa- 
ble to  its  use.  And  where  armed  tyranny  prevails,  the  whole  machin- 
ery of  free  nations  substituted  in  its  place  does  not  make  the  nation 
free.  A  nation  is  not  free  until  it  is  free  in  its  individual  members. 
Christ  makes  men  free.  The  spirit  of  Christ — the  spirit  of  faith,  the 
spirit  of  self-denial,  the  spirit  of  self-government,  the  spirit  of  aspira- 
tion, the  spirit  of  benevolence — this  it  is  that  makes  men  free.  Out 
of  religion  there  is  no  such  thing  as  personal  freedom ;  and  there  can 
be  no  such  thing  as  civil  freedom  outside  of  the  sphere  of  religion. 
Ojipression  goes  with  the  lower  nature,  and  belongs  to  it,  and  will 
break  out  of  it  perpetually.  These  things  are  conjoined  in  the  divine 
decree  by  which  creation  is  as  it  is.  Some  think  that  all  that  is 
needed  for  national  emancipation  is  to  throw  despotism  away,  and 
then  to  assume  the  popular  government ;  but  we  have  seen  this  tried 
time  and  time  again  in  the  nations  of  Europe.  We  have  seen  nations 
that  rejoiced,  and  rang  their  bells,  and  discharged  their  artillery, 
because  they  had  become  free,  relapse,  after  a  very  short  time,  to  the 
state  which  they  were  in  before,  or  even  into  deeper  bondage  than 
they  were  in  before.  Free  institutions  do  not  make  a  free  people, 
unless  those  institutions  have  grown  oat  of  the  foregoing  freedom 
of  that  people.  Freedom  is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  population, 
and  not  in  the  institutions  of  the  country. 

3.  The  directest  road  to  civil  liberty  lies  in  augmenting  the  true 
manhood  of  a  people.  You  can  not  make  a  people  free  that  are  igno- 
rant and  animal ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  you  can  not  forever  keep 
any  people  in  bondage  that  are  thoroughly  educated  and  thoroughly 
moral.  Schools,  virtuous  home-training,  free  religious  knowledge, 
whatever  will  swell  the  manhood  of  the  individuals  of  a  nation — 
these  are  the  means  which  produce  civil  liberty.  Liberty  is  but  an- 
other name  for  augmented  manhood.  It  may  grow  in  a  nation 
under  a  monarch.  England  is  a  monarchy;  but  England  i^  as  free 
as  we  are.  Germany  is  a  monarchy ;  but  the  spirit  of  liberty  is 
growing  larger  and^  larger  every  year  there,  and  will  continue  to 
grow.  It  is  possible  for  the  worst  despotism  to  flourish  under  the 
forms  of  civil  liberty.  Despotism  may  thrive  under  republicanism. 
And  the  truest  liberty,  on  the  other  hand,  may  be  devoloped  under 
the  name,  xmder  the  forms,  under  the  laws,  though  not  under  the 
spirit,  of  despotism — certainly  under  a  monarchy. 


MORAL   THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  291 

Some  men  will  do  more  with  the  poorest  tools  than  other  men 
■will  do  with  the  most  exquisite  tools.  One  man  with  a  jack-knife 
will  beat  another  man  with  a  whole  chest  of  tools,  in  the  creation  of 
fine  tilings;  because  it  is  skill,  because  it  is  a  subtle  vital  element, 
that  guides  the  hand.  There  may  not  be  many  nations  in  which 
the  people  are  freer,  and  in  which  life  and  property  are  safer,  than 
in  ours ;  but  there  are  few  cities  on  the  globe  where  life  is  so  unsafe, 
and  where  property  is  so  unsafe — where  so  much  is  stolen  by  direct 
brutality,  and  so  much  more  by  judicial  brutality — as  in  New-York. 
And  j)i'obably  there  is  no  place  on  the  earth  where  life  and  property 
are  safer,  and  justice  is  better  executed,  than  in  Paris.  In  certain 
respects  there  is  more  liberty  in  that  city  than  in  perhaps  any  other. 
So  that  despotism  may  flourisli  under  republican  institutions,  and 
liberty  may  thrive  under  monarchical  institutions.  It  illustrates 
the  fact  that  the  nature  of  civil  liberty,  and  the  nature  of  personal 
liberty,  are  to  be  determined  more  from  the  condition  of  the  individ- 
uals, than  from  the  importation  of  names  and  forms  and  customs. 

If,  then,  a  peoj^le  are  already  prepared  to  be  made  free,  it  is  a 
wise  thing  to  supersede  their  old  and  waste  institutions  by  reforma- 
tion, and  to  establish  on  their  foundations  a  better  system  of  civil 
polity,  of  adjudication,  of  legislation,  and  of  general  government ; 
but  if  they  are  not  prepared,  if  they  are  not  educated,  the  best  way 
to  make  them  free  is  not  to  elect  a  president  instead  of  a  king.  That 
may  or  may  not  do  good.  The  South- American  republics  have  for 
a  great  while  elected  presidents  ;  and  what  have  they  been  ?  Men 
of  straw,  if  they  were  presidents  ;  and  kings,  every  inch  of  thera,  if 
they  have  been  good  for  any  thing.  They  have  despotized,  if  they 
have  ruled.  The  reason  of  this  has  been  that  the  people  were  not 
prepared  for' freedom.  They  had  not  developed  the  liberty  of  self- 
restraint  in  themselves.  The  men  individually  did  not  know  how  to 
take  care  of  their  passions,  and  to  keep  them  down.  And,  like  erup- 
tions that  make  earthquakes  if  they  can  not  get  discharge,  and  that 
make  volcanoes  if  they  do  get  discharge,  the  South-American  rcjiublics 
have  been  a  vast  crater  boiling  with  revolutions.  And  so  it  will  be 
there  till  education  and  true  religion  make  moi'e  of  mai^liood,  and  di- 
minish by  self-restraint  and  government  the  animalism  that  belongs 
to  the  people. 

If,  therefore,  one  desires  in  Europe  to  sow  the  seeds  of  true  lib- 
erty, I  would  not  say,  "  Keep  back  books  that  teach  about  the  ma- 
chinery of  society."  Let  them  be  instructed  in  those  things.  But 
do  not  rely  on  those  things.  Ply  the  bottom  of  society  with  scliools. 
Ply  the  masses  with  those  things  Avhich  shall  teach  them  how  to  live 
with  organization ;  how  to  deny  themselves  ;  how  to  live  to-day  for 
future  periods  of  time;   how  to  practice  the   simple  virtues;  and 


292  MOBAL  TUEOBY  OF  CIVIL  LIBEBTT. 

bow  to  carry  those  virtues  up  to  the  spiritual  forms  in  wliicli  they 
are  to  eventuate.  He  that  teaches  men  how  to  be  true  men  in 
Christ  Jesus  is  aiming  as  straight  at  liberty  as  ever  any  archer  that 
bended  the  bow  aimed  at  the  target. 

That  is  the  reason  why  true  preachers  are  always  revolutionary 
men.  To  j)reach  a  larger  manhood  is  to  unsettle,  by  prophecy,  all 
tiirones.  For,  the  moment  individual  power  is  augmented  in  soci- 
ety, the  moment  men  begin  to  take  care  .of  themselves,  that  moment 
laws  will  not  be  needed,  and  officers  will  not  be  needed,  and  the 
whole  apparatus  of  despotism  will  first  become  useless,  and  after- 
ward pass  away.  Hence,  the  best  way  to  make  liberty  is  to  make 
better  men,  better  citizens.  That  was  the  apostles'  metliod.  It 
would  have  been  j^remature  in  their  days  to  have  gone  into  the  dis- 
cussion of  civil  rights.  They  aimed  directly  at  making  larger,  purer, 
better  men.  Tliey  aimed  at  the  repression  of  the  animal,  and  the 
development  of  the  moral  sentiments.  Theji  aimed  at  putting  down 
the  flesh,  with  all  its  evils,  and  bringing  up  the  spirit,  with  all  its  vir- 
tues. To  put  down  the  flesh  is  to  put  down  despotism,  the  world 
over  ;  and  to  bring  up  the  spirit  is  to  bring  up  freedom,  the  world  over. 
Therefore,  where  there  has  been  an  unrestricted,  pure,  evangelical 
preaching  of  the  word  of  God,  there  has  inevitably  followed  civil 
liberty  ;  and  whenever  men  have  wished  to  check  civil  liberty,  they 
have  checked  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel ;  they  have  shut  up  the 
Bible ;  they  have  substituted  human  creeds  for  divine  teaching ; 
they  have  kept  down  those  things  which  promote  public  knowledge 
and  public  virtue. 

Propagaudism,  then,  though  it  may  have  some  limited  and  rela- 
tive use,  is  not  the  great  highway  toward  liberty  among  an  oppressed 
people ;  but  education  is.     That  is  the  direct  road  to  freedom. 

When  Moses  liad  brought  the  people  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt, 
the  shortest  cut  to  their  journey's  end  Avas  only  a  day's  march;  but 
they  were  not  fit  to  go  into  the  promised  land.  If  they  had  gone  in 
then,  they  would  have  gone  in  like  a  set  of  wolves,  wrangling  and 
quarreling  all  the  way.  And  so  tlie  Lord  turned  them  back.  He 
made  an  academy  of  the  sands.  And  for  forty  years  they  were  kept 
in  the  desert,  till  all  the  hoary  heads  that  could  not  learn  had  died, 
■  and  learned  of  the  grave,  and  all  the  younger  men  had  been  brought 
under  the  influence  of  a  commonwealth — for  the  commonwealth  of  the 
desert  was  a  grand  pattern  of  the  commonwealths  of  modern  times. 
And  then,  after  forty  years  of  teaching,  they  were  taken  into  the 
promised  land.  It  required  forty  years  of  teaching  in  coordinate 
life,  in  self-government,  in  justice  and  humanity,  and  in  purity,  to 
prepare  them  for  civil  liberty. 

And  so  it  will  be  with  nations.     You  can  not  take  a  nation 


MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  293 

straight  into  its  liberties,  any  more  than  you  can  take  a  boy  straight 
into  knowledge.  You  must  first  send  him  to  the  common  school ; 
and  he  must  stay  there  a  year  or  two.  Then  you  must  send  him  to 
the  academy ;  and  he  must  stay  there  three  or  four  years.  Then  he 
must  go  into  the  college,  and  stay  there  three  or  four  years  longer. 
And  when  he  leaves  the  college,  what  does  he  know  ?  He  is  a  scio- 
list, and  a  beginner.  After  that  lie  must  spend  two  or  three  years  in 
acquiring  his  profession.  And  when  he  has  devoted  twelve  or  fifteen 
years  to  study,  he  has  a  right  to  begin  life.  And  he  will  bear  wit- 
ness tliat  then  he  is  but  a  beginner. 

You  can  not  force  knowledge  into  a  man ;  and  just  as  little  can 
you  force  liberty  into  men.  It  is  a  thing  of  development.  It  is  a 
thing  that  can  not  be  brought  into  a  man  or  a  nation,  but  that  has  to 
be  Avrought  out  of  the  elements  of  the  man,  or  of  the  nation.  Make 
men's  limbs  so  large  that  there  is  not  iron  enough  to  go  around  them. 
Make  men's  muscles,  like  Samson's,  so  strong  that  withes  and  cords 
are  like  flax  touched  with  fire  when  they  strain  them.  That  will 
cure  bondage  ;  and  that  is  the  best  way  to  cure  it.  Make  men  larger ; 
make  them  measure  more  about  the  girt  of  the  conscience,  and  less 
around  the  animalism,  and  then  you  can  not  oppress  them. 

No  government  is  strong  enough,  even  at  this  stage  of  the  world's 
progress — in  Europe,  certainly — to  withstand  the  rising  of  the  public 
sentiment  of  a  nation.  It  was  Tocqueville  who  said  that  all  gov- 
ernments would  be  just  as  rascally  as  the  people  would  let  then;  be; 
and  there  never  was  a  truer  thing  said  by  a  wiser  man.  Yet,  even 
Napoleon,  with  the  imperial  power  of  the  strongest,  and  in  many  re- 
sjiects  the  most  civilized  nation  on  the  globe — for  the  French  people 
are  i^reeminently  a  people  of  genius,  of  ingenuity,  of  wit,  in  the  larger 
sense  of  the  term — even  Napoleon,  with  the  vast  power  that  he  has, 
can  not  defy  public  sentiment,  and  is  obliged  to  let  out  his  armor. 
He  is  obliged  to  insert  into  the  government  a  gore  here,  and  a  gore 
there,  to  keep  it  large  enough.  The  people  are  growing  so  fost  that 
the  government  does  not  fit  them ;  and  they  will  split  it  unless  he 
enlarges  it.  And  so,  not  because  he  likes  it,  I  suppose,  but  because 
he  likes  to  maintain  his  supremacy,  and  because  that  is  the  only  con- 
dition on  which  he  can  do  it,  he  is  making  his  government,  little  by 
little,  freer  and  freer.  But  that  freedom  came  from  the  people.  It 
was  the  necessity  of  fitting  his  government  to  them  that  led  to  his 
making  it  larger  and  looser. 

Even  despotisms — with  the  exception  of  the  Roman,  which  is  the 
stupidest  as  well  as  the  worst — are  obliged  to  consider  the  wishes 
of  their  subjects,  and  push  them  on  the  side  of  civilization.  And  all 
civilization,  all  true  intelligence,  all  true  virtue,  all  true  religion,  is 
antagonistic  to  tyranny,  is  deadly  to  despotism.     Make  men  better, 


294  MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

and  you  are  certainly  preparing  to  make  tlie  jieople  to  which  they 
belong  freer.  And  that  is  the  royal  road  to  freedom.  "  Christ  shall 
make  you  free,"  is  just  as  true  in  its  civil  relation  as  in  its  application 
to  the  individual. 

4.  Modern  nations,  with  a  certain  degree  of  civilization,  are  all 
tending  to  civil  liberty ;  and  democracy.,  as  it  is  called,  is  inevitable. 
This  is  admitted  by  all  heads,  crowned  as  well  as  others.  It  is  only 
a  question  as  to  how  long  a  time  will  be  required  to  bring  about  the 
result.  Before  the  day  dawned,  or  in  its  twilight,  even,  Tocqueville, 
who  was  the  most  far-seeing  projihet,  as  it  were,  of  his  time,  did  not 
believe  that  democracy  was  the  best  thing  for  the  world;  but  he 
declared  that  it  was  inevitable,  and  that,  as  a  choice  of  evils,  it  was 
best  for  all  governments  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  necessity.  I  hold 
that  democracy — not  democracy  in  that  soiled  and  draggled  use  of 
the  term  which  belongs  to  American  politics,  but  democracy  as  the 
representation  of  something  higher  than  the  thief's  lore  and  the 
beast's  brutality ;  democracy  as  rej^resenting  a  large.  Christian  idea — 
I  hold  that  this  is  the  blessed  angel  of  God  that  is  flying  over  the 
nations  with  trumpet  in  hand,  and  proclaiming  the  final  victories  of 
Christ  in  the  world.  Through  much  tribulation,  through  much 
blood,  through  wars  and  revolutions,  these  victories  are  to  come ; 
nev.ertlieless  there  is  a  certainty  of  their  coming.  The  universal  brain 
is  showing  itself  to  be  mightier  than  the  class  brain.  The  crowned 
hea4  must  give  way  to  the  thinking  head  of  the  millions. 

In  this  tendency,  the  first  step  should  be  popular  intelligence,  or 
real  growth  at  the  bottom  of  society.  Then  the  institutions  of  liber- 
ty will  come,  gradually,  themselves.  But  when  by  violent  revolu- 
tions the  free  machinery  of  civil  liberty  precedes  the  other  element 
of  civil  liberty — namely,  the  education  of  the  people — it  will  stand, 
if  time  can  only  be  secured  for  the  people  to  be  educated,  and  to  rise 
up  to  the  pi'oper  use  of  their  civil  institutions  ;  but  if  this  can  not  be 
secured,  then  the  jnere  importation  of  the  machinery  of  a  free  gov- 
ernment will  do  them  no  good. 

Let  me  apply  these  ideas  to  special  instances. 

The  growth  of  liberty  in  England  is  one  of  the  most  important 
studies  for  a  Christian  philosopher.  I  regard  no  one  feature  in  our 
time  so  striking  as  this.  And  no  one  event  in  our  age  is  more  strik- 
ing than  the  fact  of  our  great  war,  and  the  results  of  it  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  spirit  of  liberty,  and  of  faith  in  it,  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  It  has  both  its  material  and  its  moral  side ;  but  the 
power  of  a  people  to  stand  around  and  strengthen  a  government,  the 
jjower  put  into  the  hands  of  a  government  by  a  people,  wh(m  they 
themselves  make  that  government,  and  when  it  expi-esses  them,  is 
one  of  the  lessons  that  is  most  strikingly  illustrated.     N"o  crowned 


MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  295 

head — not  even  the  Czar  himself — could  have  put  a  million  men 
along  a  base  of  a  thousand  miles,  and  sustained  them  with  ever- 
growing strength,  and  more  and  more  skill  and  potency,  through  four 
years  of  war.  No  exchequer  of  any  monarch  could  ever  stand  the  drain 
to  which  the  treasury  of  this  government  was  subjected,  and  which 
was  supplied  by  the  taxation  and  labor  of  a  free  people.  All  Eu- 
rope predicted  our  bankruptcy.  My  own  ears  heard  it.  Manches- 
ter and  Liverpool  and  London  said  to  me,  "  Oh  !  your  money  is  but 
jjaper.  Besides,  you  ai"e  only  a  democracy  ;  and  wliat  is  property  in 
a  democracy?  Do  you  suppose  your  people  will  bear  taxation  ?"  I 
said  to  them,  "  There  is  no  people  on  earth  that  will  bear  such  taxa- 
tion as  a  people  that  tax  themselves.  Your  government  came  down  to 
your  people,  and  they  do  not  like  it,  and  they  do  not  like  to  be  taxed 
to  support  it;  and  the  life  of  your  government  depends  on  light 
taxes.  But  our  people  do  like  their  government,  and  they  are  will- 
ing to  be  taxed,  and  heavily  taxed,  if  necessary,  for  its  support. 
Our  government  represents  the  living  want  and  the  present  judg- 
ment of  our  people,  and  they  shrink  from  no  self-sacrifice  which  may 
be  required  for  its  preservation,"  And  we  said  to  Europe,  "  There 
is  no  such  power  in  the  world  as  in  the  arms  of  a  free  people,  and 
there  are  no  such  resources  as  such  a  people's  exchequer."  "  Ah  ! 
but,"  said  they,  "  you  have  banked  up  this  mighty  power  ;  you  have 
collected  your  forces ;  your  men  have  come  forward  voluntarily  and 
filled  the  mountain-tops  with  their  masses  ;  but  wait  till  the  war 
ceases,  and  then,  when  your  armies  begin  to  melt,  avalanches  will 
come  on  you,  destroying  valleys  and  burying  villages.  You  will  be 
overwhelmed  with  rapine  and  waste."  Like  the  snows  on  our  hills, 
the  armies  melted  arid  flowed  into  streams  which  had  a  momentary 
freshet,  and  then  passed  away  ;  and  the  most  part  sank  into  the  soil, 
to  nourish  the  grass  and  the  flowers.  And  Europe  has  beheld  a  mil- 
lion men  disbanded  without  a  riot. 

Nay,  more.  Our  generals,  and  the  most  eminent  of  them,  have 
abundantly  proved  themselves  true  lovers  of  true  government,  with- 
out ambition.  Major-generals  are  colonels  now.  None  of  them 
mourn.  Although  the  dilference  of  salary  might  be  a  convenience,  I 
never  heard  of  a  single  man  who,  either  from  ambition  or  from  ava- 
rice, proposed,  by  any  plot  or  any  device,  to  do  other  than  be  a  good 
citizen.  They  have  folded  their  wide-spread  wings,  and  they  sit 
quiet  as  doves.     And  Europe  has  beheld  it. 

And  gradually  this  vast  national  debt,  that  had  but  one  superior, 
is  wasting  and  wasting  away.  The  taxation  of  this  people  is  a 
bungling  machinery ;  but  clumsy  as  it  is,  unequal  and  oppressive  as 
it  is,  the  spirit  of  popular  justice  in  this  land  not  only  bears  it,  but 
insists  upon  it,  because  it  is  the  will  of  this  people  that  the  u|,tional 


296  MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

debt,  which  was  the  sacrifice  oifered  by  them  for  the  unity  of  this 
country,  should  be  paid.  It  Avas  the  price  of  supporting  our  boys — 
your  sons  and  mine ;  it  was  the  price  of  maintaining  the  young  men 
of  the  nation,  in  the  great  struggle  through  which  we  have  passed  ; 
and  he  that  repudiates  that  debt  dishonors  the  grave  of  every  patriot 
who  sleeps  beneath  the  sod.     And  it  will  not  be  done. 

Now,  do  you  suppose  that  a  great  nation  like  this,  that  stretches 
from  ocean  to  ocean,  that  listens  to  the  thunder  of  two  seas,  over 
which  deep  calls  unto  deep,  that  owns  every  latitude,  that  has  the 
tropics  and  the  zones,  to  the  very  frigid  zone,  in  its  hand — do  you 
supjDOse  that  a  nation  so  strong  and  large  as  this  is,  and  represent- 
ing the  spirit  of  Christianized  liberty,  can  stand  up  before  Euroj)e 
and  not  foment  discontent  among  her  people,  and  breed  in  them 
desires  for  liberty  ?  Their  mistake  will  be  likely  to  consist  in  this, 
that  they  will  undertake  to  have  first  our  government,  and  then  our 
liberty.  They  must  have  our  people's  training  first,  and  then  the 
machinery  of  our  government  will  come  as  fast  as  they  can  use  it. 

Unbeknown  to  them — that  is,  by  divine  j^rovidence,  rather  than 
by  the  wit  and  foresight  of  man — just  that  training  is  going  on.     It 
takes  its  first  development  in  the  trades  unions,  and  cooperative  socie- 
ties, and  labor  associations  of  the  common  people.     Often  in  the  his- 
tory of  tins  world  have  people  failed  in  the  thing  that  they  set  out  to 
do,  and  done  a  greater  good  which  they  never  thought  of.     Men,  for 
the  sake  of  raising  wages,  are  forming  themselves  into  combinations 
— into  clubs,  and  unions,  and  cooperative  associations :  and,  whatever 
may  be  the  industrial  effect  of  these  combinations,  the  social  and 
moral  efiect  is  going  to  be  very  significant.     One  thing  is  certain, 
that  the  .men  Avho  are  cooperating  in  this  way  are  learning  self-denial. 
They  are  no  longer  spending  money  for  personal  indulgence.     They 
form  themselves  into  a  common  council  for  the  promotion  of  jjublic 
ends.     They  are  being  trained  to  republicanism.     There  is  a  republic 
formed  within  a  monarchy ;  a  democracy  within  a  kingdom.     And 
every  association  where  men  work  industriously,  using  only  a  part 
of  their  earnings  to  support  themselves,  and  giving  the  rest  for  the 
furtherance  of  a  public  end,  although  that  end  may  not  be  as  high  as 
it  might  be,  is  a  school  in  which  men  are  trained  to  suppress  their 
animal  nature.     It  is  not  a  great  military  drill-ground  ;  but,  better 
than  that,  it  is  a  great  social  drill-ground. 

Why,  one  of  the  most  significant  events  that  ever  took  place  in 
Europe  fell  almost  dead.  I  never  heard  it  proclaimed.  I  never 
heard  the  bells  I'uug  in  commemoration  of  it.  I  could  have  rang  the 
old  "  Liberty  Bell "  with  a  will,  if  I  had  had  hold  of  the  rope,  when 
I  heard  of  it.  It  was  a  congress  of  working-men  in  Brussels,  in 
f 


MOBAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  297 

wliicli  a  resolution  was  passed  that  "the  interest  of  the  working  classes 
demanded  peace,  and  not  war,  in  Europe.  Previous  to  that  time  the 
great  unthinking  rabble,  easily  fired  in  their  passions,  had  been  ready 
to  follow  this  or  that  ambitious  leader,  and  devastate  nations.  And 
they  destroyed  whom  ?  Nobles  ?  The  rich  classes  ?  Their  oppres- 
sors ?  No.  They  cut  their  own  natural  brethren's  throats.  For 
the  mass  of  armies  are  working-men.  It  is  the  farmer 'that  shoots 
down  the  farmer ;  it  is  the  mechanic  that  slays  the  mechanic ;  it  is 
the  peasant  that  kills  the  peasant.  And  as  soon  as  working-men 
begin  to  see  that  the  interests  of  working-men  in  France,  in  Ger- 
many, in  Austria,  in  Italy,  in  Spain,  in  every  country  of  Europe,  and 
in  America,  are  identical,  and  that  war  is  but  the  way  in  which  their 
oi^pressors  destroy  them,  without  weakening  oppression,  they  will  set 
their  faces  against  war.  And  when  the  masses  of  laboring  men  say 
"  Peace,"  kings  and  emperors  will  be  obliged  to  say  "  Peace."  Eu- 
rope heard  the  empty  Napoleon  say,  "  The  empire  is  peace,"  and 
laughed  ;  but  when  the  men  of  the  hammer  and  the  men  of  the  saw 
said,  "Europe  must  have  peace,"  all  men  paused  and  pondered. 
That  was  not  an  unmeaning  sound.  It  was  the  silent  and  low-toned 
utterance  of  God's  prophecy,  speaking  from  the  common  people, 
among  whom  Christ- was  born,  and  to  whom  his  ministry  was  given. 
Christ  was  a  poor  man,  and  he  brought  the  Gospel  to  the  poor.  And 
again,  civilization  is  waking  up  among  the  poor.  The  signs  of  the 
times  in  Europe  are  most  auspicious — and  particularly  in  tliis,  that 
there  is  silently  coming  np  among  the  laboring  classes  there  a 
higher  average  of  intelligence,  and  a  stronger  disposition  to  be  men. 
And  this  disjjosition  to  be  men,  which  we  see  practically  carried  out 
through  Europe,  will  develop  in  this  age  greater  results  than  were 
-ever  dreamed  of. 

"We  have  lived  so  fast  that  we  do  not  know  what  things  have 
taken  place.  That  Italy  is  a  kingdom,  is  enough  to  fill  one's  lifetime 
with  wonder.  Italy,  the  contempt  of  ages,  shattered,  dismembered, 
w^eakened,  corrupted,  has  gained  health  and  virtue  at  the  bottom 
enough  to  cohere  as  a  kingdom,  and  reestablish  herself.  Spain  has 
vomited  the  Bourbons  out.  She  had  not,  but  a  short  time  ago, 
(Stamina  enough  to  vomit.  But  Spain  is  not  yet  free.  Not  till  those 
fair  valleys  hear  the  ring  of  the  free-church  bell  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
the  echo  of  it — the  common-school  bell — every  day  through  the  week ; 
not  until  the  newspaper  goes  into  the  household  ;  not  until  her  men 
and  women  learn  the  hearty  love  of  work  which  is  one  of  the  civili- 
zers  of  tlie  globe,  will  Sj^ain  be  fully  prepared  for  ample  liberty.  But 
it  is  coming.  The  Spaniards  learn  slowly,  but  they  never  forget  any 
thing — otherwise  many  of  their  faults  would  have  been  forgotten. 
At  any  rate,  Spain  is  not  ready  for  liberty.    If  she  was,  she  would  not 


298  MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

attempt  to  take  it  away  from  the  fairest  island  that  belongs  to  her 
crown. 

And  as  it  is  in  Euroj^e,  so  it  is  in  Cuba,  to  which  I  have  alluded, 
and  which  is  in  all  men's  mouths.  The  Cubans  are  making  a  strife 
more,  I  think,  to  throw  off  opj)ression,  than  because  they  have  learned 
liberty.  Nevertheless,  throwing  off  oppression  is  worth  the  struggle. 
The  strife  itself  is  an  education.  It  is  developing  them  and  teaching 
them  how  to  act  for  themselves.  In  France,  in  the  earlier  periods, 
the  army  was  the  best  school.  The  peasant  was  sent  away  a  clod, 
and  he  came  back  a  man  well  developed  in  many  respects.  He  had 
traveled  much,  and  seen  many  countries,  and  had  learned  punctuality, 
and  obedience,  and  ajDtness  of  foot  and  hand,  and  acuteness  of  eye 
and  ear.  There  was  no  other  means  by  which  a  man  in  France 
could  learn  so  much.  And  conscription  in  France,  which  in  one 
respect  has  been  a  great  mischief,  in  another  respect  has  been  a  great 
bounty.  So  war  is  oftentimes  an  education.  And  if  the  Cubans  have 
long  enough  to  study  the  things  which  shall  make  them  valiant,  and 
teach  them  to  coordinate  their  lives,  the  war  which  they  are  waging 
will  be  a  benefit  to  them.  If  they  throw  off  their  oppression,  and 
gain  the  right  to  be  men,  they  will  doubtless  take  on  some  form  of 
free  government;  but  with  that  they  will  need  to  have  something- 
else.  They  will  need  a  higher  state  of  manhood  in  the  family  and  in 
the  individual.  Schools,  churches,  books,  and  papers  will  be  worth 
more  to  them  than  any  other  institutions,  at  present.  My  heart  is  in 
that  conflict,  as  it  is  in  any  conflict  in  which  a  people  are  struggling 
for  liberty ;  and,  so  long  as  they  are  rising  up  for  a  better  manhood, 
whether  they  are  half  prepared  or  wholly  prepared  for  it,  and 
whether  they  know  what  it  is  or  not,  and  whether  or  not  they  know 
the  road  to  it,  I  am  with  them,  and  pray  for  them.  And  though  my 
expectation  may  not  run  with  theirs,  and  I  may  not  believe  that  they 
will  attain  as  much  as  they  sanguinely  believe  they  will,  yet  I  am  on 
their  side.  Every  man  who  is  unwilling  to  be  a  beast,  and  is  trying, 
"even  in  the  most  awkward  and  round-about  way,  to  be  a  fuller  man, 
has,  I  believe,  had  breathed  on  him  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost — 
the  spirit  of  inspiration  and  elevation  ;  and  my  heart  goes  out  toward 
him.  May  every  blow  that  the  Cubans  strike  go  home ;  and  may 
the  God  that  rules  the  winds  and  the  waves,  with  the  stars  in  heaven, 
again  fight  against  Sisera.  May  he  cause  great  natural  laws  to  work 
for  them. 

Still,  our  government  is  right  in  all  it  is  doing  in  regard  to  the 
Cubans.  We  have  no  business  to  fit  out  privateering  expeditions  to 
help  them.  It  would  be  just  as  wicked  as  it  was  for  the  Alabama 
to  be  fitted  out  in  the  port  of  Liverpool.  And  the  government 
ought  to  be  as  vigilant  as  it  can,  in  preventing  these  expeditions 


MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  299 

from  going  out ;  but  the  Cubans  ouglit  to  be  more  cunning  tban  the 
government,  and  get  them  out  anyhow !  I  want  the  expeditions  to 
go,  and  I  want  the  Cubans  to  have  powder,  and  rifles,  and  artillery, 
and  men  ;  and  yet  I  want  the  government  honestly  and  earnestly, 
without  winking  or  blinking,  to  maintain  their  proper  duties  as  a 
nation  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  So  I  am  on  the  side  of  the 
government  decidedly ;  and  I  am  on  the  side  of  the  Cubans  decid- 
edly ! 

But  when  the  Cubans  shall  have  gained  the  liberty  to  think,  and 
to  sjDeak,  and  to  form  their  own  government,  I  shall  not  feel  that 
they  are  free.  I  shall  not  feel  that  Cuba  is  free  because  she  has 
struck  down  the  Spanish  flag  and  hoisted  her  own.  Let  me  see  that 
she  has  struck  down  the  animal  and  hoisted  the  divine,  and  then  I 
shall  feel  that  her  people  are  free.  Then  Christ  will  have  made  them 
free  ;  and  when  Christ  has  made  them  free,  they  will  be  free  indeed. 
And  that  which  is  true  of  this  fair  isle,  and  of  this  struggle,  is 
just  as  true  of  Crete ;  is  just  as  true  of  Greece ;  is  just  as  true  of 
Egypt;  is  just  as  true  of  all  the  different  nationalities  that  are  pro- 
perly striving  for  their  liberty. 

But  remember  that  if  the  institutions  of  liberty  precede  the  de- 
veloj^ment  of  it  in  the  individual,  unless  time  is  given  them  to  edu- 
cate themselves  in  the  use  of  the  instruments  of  liberty,  it  will  do 
them  no  good.  Men  must  become  free,  first  by  learning  how  to 
govern  themselves,  and  then  by  learning  how  to  ftse  the  instruments 
of  civil  liberty ;  and  then  they  will  have  a  liberty  that  will  stand. 
When  the  nations  of  the  earth  have  learned  to  be  free  on  such  con- 
ditions as  these,  I  know  not  why  national  life  should  ever  run  out ; 
I  know  not  why  nations  should  not  exist  for  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  years.  The  analogies  between  the  life  of  a  tree  and 
the  life  of  an  individual  are  but  poetic  illustrations  ;  and  there  are 
no  analogies  of  national  life.,  I  do  not  see  why  it  may  not  flow  on 
and  last  as  long  as  the  ocean,  or  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  ;  but 
the  conditions  which  I  have  stated  are  the  conditions  on  which  it 
must  stand. 

In  regard  to  oiirselves,  my  own  augury  for  the  future  is  a  pleas- 
ing one.  I  believe  that  education  is  to  augment  its  power.  We 
are  educating  better,  as  well  as  more  widely.  Both  the  science  and 
the  art  of  educating  are  rising  in  this  land.  And  I  believe  that  the 
spirit  of  religion  itself  is  growing.  There  is  a  superficial  strife  going 
on  among  the  instruments  of  religion ;  each  one  of  the  various 
churches  is  making  a  desperate  efibrt  to  maintain  itself  and  its  own 
form ;  and  I  look  with  the  utmost  complacency  and  good-will  upon 
them  all.  I  know  that  God  loves  Episcopacy,  and  Presbyterianism, 
and  Methodism,  and  Baptism,  and  Congregationalism.     I  know  that 


300  MORAL   THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

all  the  organizations  wliicli  have  for  their  end  the  augmentation  of 
moral  principle  in  this  world  are  divinely  favored,  and  that  they  will 
be  prospered  in  proportion  to  the  industry  and  perseverance  of  the 
men  who  manage  them.  If  they  choose  to  have  a  little  by-play 
among  themselves,  that  will  perhaps  somewhat  delay  their  progi-ess ; 
but  it  will  not  make  much  diiference.  The  Lord's  church  is  bio-o-er 
than  any  church  that  men's  hands  ever  formed.  There  is  no  wall  that 
can  contain  the  church  of  God  on  earth ;  and  there  is  no  sect-line 
that  can  reach  around  it.  The  Lord's  garment  is  large  enough  to  cover 
all  sects,  and  to  leave  room  for  nations  to  camp  under  it  besides. 

I  am  not  sorry  to  see  the  Roman  Church  spread.    I  think  it  a  great 
•  deal  better  than  nothing.     And  there  are  influences  that  are  modify> 
ing  it.     It  has  on  its  back,  you  know,  all  the  faults  and  sins  of  a  thou 
sand  years ;  and  it  can  not  carry  them  forever. 

When  Oxford  refused  to  allow  Newton's  Principia  to  be  taught, 
teaching  Aristotle's  falsities,  they  taught  "  Aristotle  on  Cosmogony, 
with  Notes,"  and  the  notes  confuted  the  text  all  the  way  through. 
And  so,  little  by  little,  they  got  the  liberty  in  Oxford  to  teach  the 
true  doctrine.  The  result  is,  that  Aristotle  has  gone  under,  and  New- 
ton is  in  the  ascendency. 

There  are  a  thousand  errors  which  the  university  of  Rome  is  car- 
rying ;  but  in  intelligent  and  republican  America  the  notes  will  gra- 
dually grow,  and  the  text  will  gradually  shrink ;  and  by  and  by 
Rome  will  not  be  aliy  worse  than  High  Episcopacy.  It  is  not  much 
worse  now.  The  union  is  nearly  complete.  And  in  the  judgment  of 
intelligent  men  both  will  be  considered  as  human  devices,  and  as 
good  for  what  they  do.  The  idea  that  any  church  form  was  de- 
rived directly  from  God,  and  is  the  only  true  pattern  of  a  church,  is 
losing  its  hold  upon  men's  mmds,  and  is  bound  to  die  out.  Every 
religious  institution  on  the  face  of  the  globe  is  of  human  origin  ;  and 
men  are  coming  to  feel  this  more  and  ijiore.  Let  this  be  preached ; 
let  a  few  men  say  it  boldly  in  every  great  city ;  let  the  light  of  truth 
be  thrown  by  a  few  men  on  the  fact  that  all  institutions  of  religion 
are  human,  and  that  only  the  principle  of  religion  is  divine,  and 
churches  will  become  innocuous  in  this  respect.  Let  every  church  do 
the  best  it  can,  and  show  what  it  is  worth  by  the  results  which  it 
produces. 

I  look  forward,  then,  in  our  own  land,  with  joyful  anticipations. 
Religion,  in  the  main,  is  growing  more  and  more  powerful.  It  does 
not  exist  so  much  in  doctrinal  forms  as  it  has  in  some  ages  of  the 
world,  because  doctrinal  forms  are  not  so  much  demanded  now  as 
they  were  then.  Ecclesiasticism  is  not  so  popular  in  this  country 
as  it  has  been,  and  it  will  not  long  be  so  popular  as  it  is  now.  Re- 
ligion may  not  grow  in  the  way  in  which  men  have  been  accustomed 


MORAL   THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  301 

to  think  of  it ;  but  the  essential  principle  of  religion — the  belief  in 
the  real  God  ;  -the  belief  in  a  divine  order  of  events ;  the  belief  in 
justice  and  truth  ;  the  belief  in  sympathy  and  true  philanthropy ; 
the  belief  in  self-denial ;  the  recognition  of  the  hatefulness  of  selfish- 
ness, and  the  wickedness  of  cruel  pride — there  never  was  a  period  in 
the  history  of  the  world  when  this  was  so  truly  prevalent  as  now. 
Men  believe  in  the  essential  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and  are  carrying  it 
out  better  in  the  family,  and  are  carrying  it  out  better  in  communi- 
ties. Bad  as  much  of  legislation  is,  it  is  but  temporary.  The  evils 
wiiich  we  see  are  but  symptoms ;  and  tliey  are  curable  symptoms. 
Legislation,  on  the  whole,  taking  it  from  twenty-five  years  to  twenty- 
five  years,  averages  better  and  better.  Jurisprudence  has  a  better 
outlook.  And  knowledge  never  was  so  free,  and  never  ran  so  little 
in  the  direction  of  power  and  craft,  and  never  worked  so  much  for 
the  amelioration  of  the  social  and  civil  conditions  of  the  people,  as  it 
does  to-day. 

We  have  our  dangei's.  The  world  would  not  be  fit  to  live  in  if 
there  were  not  dangers  in  it.  Dangers  are  God's  whetstones  with 
which  to  keep  men  sharp.  Men  are  ground  by  difficulties.  "Wealth, 
if  it  runs  toward  the  animal  passions,  is  a  great  danger  ;  but  if  wealth 
runs  toward  the  higher  sentiments,  it  is  a  beneficent  j^ower.  And 
blessed  be  God  for  wealth !  I  could  almost  j^reach  on  the  duty  of  be- 
ing rich — though  I  could  not  practice  ray  own  preaching  in  that  resj^ect, 
any  more  than  in  many  others!  There  is  a  mighty  power  for  good  in 
wealth,  if  it  goes  with  the  judgment  and  the  moral  sense.  If  it  makes 
the  foundations  deeper  and  broader,  and  the  superstructure  better,  of 
the  rational  nature  of  man,  then  blessed  be  wealth.  It  is  a  part  of 
God's  omnipotence. 

Luxury  men  are  afraid  of  So  am  I,  if  it  is  pigs'  luxury  ;  but  not 
if  it  is  angelic  luxury.  I  believe  there  will  be  conditions  in  which 
there  will  be  more  luxury  than  was  ever  dreamed  of  in  this  world. 
Luxury  that  works  toward  beauty,  toward  refinement,  toward  eleva- 
tion, toward  simplicity,  toward  exquisiteness,  is  blessed.  Men  say, 
*'  There  is  less  necessity  of  work,  and  therefore  there  is  more  leisure." 
Well,  blessed  be  God  for  leisure.  I  hate  laziness,  and  love  leisure. 
He  whose  feet  rest,  and  whose  hands  no  longer  toil,  may  keep  the 
golden  wheels  of  the  mind  Avorking  all  the  more.  The  highest  pro- 
ducts of  life  are  not  those  which  are  found  in  warehouses.  Better 
than  these  are  books,  pictures,  statues — the  various  elements  which 
belong  to  intellectual  life,  and  which  leisure  breeds.  There  can  be  no 
high  civilization  where  there  is  not  ample  leisure.  And  as  you  go 
toward  the  spiritual  world,  there  will  be  more  leisure  and  less  lazi- 
ness. 

In  this  great  development,  all  those  men  who  work  to  stimulate 


302  'MORAL  THEORT  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

the  animal  jDassions  of  society  are  the  traitors.  They  are  the  men 
who  are  undermining  our  prosperity.  Every  man  that  teaches  men 
to  be  gluttons,  to  be  intemperate,  or  to  be  licentious ;  every  man 
that  is  bawling  for  liberty,  meaning  the  liberty  of  the  beast,  the 
liberty  of  man's  lower  nature,  is  a  traitor.  Such  men  are  destroying 
self-restraint,  and  are  destroying,  therefore,  the  foundations  on  which 
liberty  must  stand. 

The  men  and  women  that  are  patriots — who  are  they  ?  Mothers 
who  are  bringing  up  their  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord — they  are  writing  better  Declarations  of  Independence 
than  ever  Thomas  Jeiferson  inscribed.  Humble  fathers  who  are 
training  their  children  in  essential  manliness,  in  self-reliance,  in  inde- 
pendence, making  them  ashamed  to  beg,  and  proud  to  rely  upon  their 
own  resources — they  are  patriots.  They  are  lovers  of  our  country. 
The  humble  schoolmistress  that  gathers  her  summer  brood  and  pours 
her  refined  life  into  the  bosom  of  these  rustics — she  is  a  patriot.  The 
schoolmaster,  who  stands  nearer  to  the  work  of  God  in  the  world,  and 
in  our  age,  than  even  the  minister  himself  does — he  is  the  patriot.  The 
editor,  that  is  taking  knowledge,  and  giving  to  it  multiform  wings,  and 
setting  it  flying  round  and  round  the  world — he  is  the  patriot.  Those 
men  who  augment  the  substantial  qualities  of  manhood — the  preachers 
of  the  Gospel;  the  humble  missionary ;  the  colporteur ;  the  devoted 
Christian  in  every  neighborhood — those  men  who  are  working  for  the 
spiritual  development  of  man — they  are  God's  truest  p»atriots.  They, 
of  every  name,  everywhere,  who  make  men  larger,  are  working  for 
liberty;  and  they  who  are  demoralizing  men,  and  making  license 
turn  into  lust  and  belluine  appetites,  are  the  devil's  instruments,  and 
are  working  for  bondage  and  for  despotism. 

God  speed  the  right ;  and  from  year  to  year,  as  this  Fourth  of  July 
comes  round,  and  the  national  inspiration  swells  the  young  heart, 
God  grant  that  there  may  be  an  expression  that  shall  be  better  than 
the  firing  of  crackers,  or  the  discharge  of  noisy  guns.  These  are  all 
well  enough  in  their  way ;  but  may  the  Fourth  of  July,  in  every  de- 
cade of  years,  to  us  and  to  our  children,  mean  more  than,  "  We  have 
broken  the  bondage  of  England."  May  it  mean,  more  and  more, 
"  We  have  broken  the  yoke  of  Satan,  and  have  trodden  under  foot 
the  passions  and  the  appetites  ;  and  Christ  has  made  us  free." 


MOBAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY.  303 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  tliank  thee,  Almighty  God !  for  all  the  mercies  which  thou  hast  vouch- 
safed  to  us  through  J-esus  Christ  our  Lord.  For  the  knowledge  of  thy  word,  for 
the  iufiueuce  of  those  institutions  which  have  grown  out  of  it,  and  which  express 
its  spirit ;  for  the  nurture  and  cultiire  of  home ;  for  all  the  sweet  affections  that 
have  been  developed  and  trained  ;  for  the  blessedness  of  the  estate  into  which  we 
are  born  of  liberty  ;  and  for  all  the  generous  influences  which  are  springing  up 
round  about  ue,  we  render  thee  thanksgiving  and  praise.  If  we  look  upon  our 
circumstances,  and  the  surrounding  influences,  we  marvel  that  we  are  not  more 
grateful ;  we  marvel  that  we  are  not  more  generous  to  others.  Surely  thou  hast 
given  us  the  power  by  which  easily  we  might  overcome  the  world,  the  flesh,  and 
the  devil.  Forbid  that  we  should  take  all  our  privileges  as  a  power  for  greater 
selfishness.  Forbid  that  we  should  take  all  the  beneficent  influences  that  sur- 
round us  to  make  ourselves  worse  therewith.  Deliver  us,  we  beseech  of  thee, 
from  the  temptations  of  avarice  and  greediness.  Deliver  us  from  worldly-minded- 
ness.  Deliver  us  from  all  ambitions  that  are  within  and  beneath  the  horizon. 
May  we  have  aspirations  for  manhood  more  than  for  outward  abundance.  May 
we  long,  not  for  the  honor  which  cometh  from  men,  but  for  that  greater  honor 
which  Cometh  from  God.  May  we  seek  to  found  our  estates  and  to  build  our 
houses,  not  alone  where  time  and  storm  and  disaster  have  power,  but  higher,  in 
that  blessed  realm  where  storm  can  never  come ;  where  there  is  for  us  a  house 
whose  Builder  and  whose  Maker  is  God — our  Father's  house. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  we  may  live  with  a  full  understanding  of  thy 
providence.  May  we  move  willingly  in  the  channels  which  thou  hast  appointed, 
and  where  thou  art  carrying  the  current  of  affairs.  May  we  be  wise  to  under- 
stand the  times  in  which  we  live.  May  we  side  evermore  with  the  things  that 
are  the  most  virtuous  ;  that  most  belong  to  liberty  and  purity  ;  that  are  most  filled 
with  the  spirit  of  beneficence  and  of  God. 

We  pray  that  we  may  be  delivered  from  unbelief ;  that  we  may  not  worship 
the  world,  and  laws,  which  are  but  thy  servants.  May  we  learn  more  and  more 
to  believe  in  thee,  and  to  worship  thee,  and  to  be  framed  on  the  pattern  and  image 
of  our  God.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  this  nation — all  the  States  that 
are  in  it,  and  all  the  institutions  which  belong  to  its  wide-spread  limits. 

Thou  hast  in  times  past  indicated  thy  providence,  and  hast  been  a  wonder- 
working God  in  our  midst,  and  hast  brought  us  out  of  great  perils  and  threaten- 
ings,  and  planted  our  feet  upon  the  rock. 

Grant  that  this  nation,  moulded  and  preserved,  and  in  these  latter  days  rescued 
and  reestablished  by  thy  providence,  may  live,  not  to  corrupt  itself,  nor  to  burst 
out  in  arrogant  power.  Grant  that  intelligence  may  prevail,  and  reason  predomi- 
nate over  passion,  and  virtue  belong  to  this  great  community.  And  may  benefi- 
cent, yearning  desires  for  the  up-building  of  the  weak,  in  us  take  the  place  of  op- 
pression and  of  overleaping  ambition.  Grant  that  it  may  be  ours  to  nourish,  ours 
to  bless,  ours  to  secure  release,  and  not  ours  to  imprison.  May  it  be  ours  to  en- 
large, and  not  to  restrict. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  make  thy  Gospel  powerful,  everywhere,  to  restrain 
passion  ;  to  inspire  men  with  self-government ;  to  teach  them  to  respect  their 
brethren  in  the  great  brotherhood  of  mankind. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Grant  to  them 
liberty,  and  the  foundations  on  which  it  may  stand  and  build. 


304  MORAL  THEORY  OF  CIVIL  LIBERTY. 

And  grant  that  thy  kingdom  may  come  everywhere,  and  that  thy  will  may  be 
done,  and  the  whole  earth  see  thy  salvation. 
We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER   THE    SERMOJf. 

Our  Father,  wilt  thou  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  the  word  of  instruc- 
tion that  we  have  spoken.  Wilt  thou  by  the  household  teach  us  more  and  more 
perfectly  the  way  in  which  thou  dost  cause  nations  to  walk.  May  the  way  of  the 
Lord  be  laid  and  cast  up,  and  may  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  return  and  come  to 
Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  head. 

Remember  the  poor  and  the  ignorant  of  our  own  land.  Remember  those  who 
have  been  recently  emancipated,  and  who  are  struggling  and  groping  in  the  mid- 
night darkness  of  ignorance.  They  are  called  meii,  but  grant  that  they  may  find 
out  the  hidden  meaning  of  that  word.  They  are  called  to  liberty  ;  but  teach 
them  divinely  the  act  of  being  free.  May  they  be  guarded  from  wrong.  May 
they  be  instructed  in  schools  and  in  churches,  and  be  brought  to  the  full  posses- 
sion of  that  which  they  have  in  name. 

Look,  we  beseech  of  thee,  upon  the  outlying  population,  and  upon  the  emi- 
grants that  are  scattered  up  and  down  through  our  land.  We  pray  that  every- 
where schools  may  keep  pace  with  emigration,  and  churches  preside  over  schools  ; 
and  that  this  whole  land  may  be  Christian  and  intelligent. 

And  look  upon  the  nations  and  the  islands  of  the  sea.  Be  with  those  that  are 
seeking  a  nobler  manhood.  Still  correct  their  ideal.  Still  guard  them  from  the 
dangers  that  are  in  them,  as  well  as  the  outward  dangers  which  threaten  them. 
And  build  up  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Destroy  tyrants  by  making  men  too 
mighty — too  free  and  virtuous — for  them.  And  may  the  whole  earth,  at  last, 
rounded  out  into  Christian  knowledge,  developed  into  Christian  virtue,  with 
Christ  proclaimed,  rest  and  rejoice.  And  heaven  and  earth  united  will  send  forth 
the  final  anthem  of  praise  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit.    Amen. 


xvni. 
Peaceableness. 


PEACEABLENESS. 

SUNDAY   MORNING,   JULY    11,    1869. 


"  If  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live  peaceably  with,  all  men. 
Rom.  xii.  18. 


This  is  not  a  truth  respecting  that  inward  peace  which  is 
wrought  out  in  the  soul  by  the  Spirit  of  God — that  mystic,  deep  joy, 
which  is  a  part  of  the  final  fruit  of  a  true  spirituality.  This  is  rather 
that  peace  which  is  to  exist  between  men  as  associated  together 
in  social  and  civil  relations.  We  ai'e 'to  live  peaceably  one  with 
another.  We  are  so  to  perform  duties  among  men  that  peace  shall 
be  secured,  or  that,  if  we  fail,  the  fault  shall  not  be  ours.  For  it  is 
implied  that  it  is  not  possible  always  to  live  peaceably.  Else,  why 
this  conditional  form — "  If  it  be  possible  "  ?  It  would  rather  have 
been  absolute  and  imperative,  but  that  the  inspired  writer  perceived 
that  it  was  a  conditional  thing.  It  was  not  possible  for  Christ  to 
live  peaceably  with  the  chief  priests,  the  scribes,  and  the  Pharisees. 
It  was  not  possible  for  his  apostles,  afterward,  to  live  peaceably  with 
the  Jews.  Wherever  they  went,  even  in  foreign  cities,  the  Jews 
stirred  up  their  fellows,  and  many  also  of  the  heathen,  to  persecute 
them.  It  has  not  been  possible  for  holy  men  in  different  nations,  ever 
since,  to  live  peaceably.  The  fact  of  not  living  peaceably,  therefore, 
is  not  necessarily  to  be  construed  against  one. 

Where  duty  requires  us  to  resist  steadfastly  men's  avarice,  lust, 
and  arrogance,  if  we  do  it  successfully,  we  maybe  sure  that  no  sweet- 
ness, and  no  carefulness,  and  no  nobility  of  spirit,  will  prevent  their 
anger,  and  a  turmoil  following.  You  never  can  sing  so  sweetly  that 
the  lion  will  let  you  take  the  lamb  from  his  paw.  There  is  no  cour- 
tesy and  no  gentleness  that  will  allow  you  to  take  the  kid  from 
between  the  paws  of  the  tiger.  And  when  men's  animal  passions 
are  aroused,  and  are  set  upon  their  prey,  and  it  is  your  duty  to  take 
that  prey  from  between  their  paws,  you  can  not  charm  so  skillfully 

Lesson:  Eom.  xii.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Kos.  34,  577, 1338. 


306  PEACEABLENE88. 

and  so  wisely  that  there  shall  be  peace.  There  will  be  none.  This 
covers  a  large  ground  ;  for  the  world's  fight  is  the  fight  between 
conscience  and  moral  purity  and  the  animal  that  is  in  men. 

Where  men  are  sunk  into  such  torpid  and  such  somnolent  condi- 
tions that  they  can  not  be  aroused  except  by  vehement  and  stinging 
conduct,  it  is  often  the  case  that  for  the  sake  of  a  final  peace,  we 
must  at  first  disturb  peace.  We  are  not  ^,  liberty  to  avail  ourselves 
of  this  fact,  however,  as  an  excuse  for  all  manner  of  violence  in  car- 
rying forward  a  good  work  in  a  community.  Yet  there  is  a  lethargy 
which  will  require  strokes  to  arouse  it ;  and,  under  such  circum- 
stances, we  are  responsible.  For  the  life  of  the  community  must  go 
forward,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  peaceableness. 

Where  great  injustice  and  wrong  are  organized  into  law  and  pre- 
rogative, and  are  to  be  taken  out  of  the  way  of  advancing  society, 
it  is  not  possible  for  you  to  carry  forward  whole  communities  so 
skillfully  th^t  there  shall  be  peace  between  you  and  those  that  own, 
organize,  and  engineer  wrongs.  The  strong  man  will  not  permit  you 
to  enter  his  house  and  despoil  his  goods,  unless  he  first  be  bound  ; 
and  in  binding  him  you  may  be  sure  that  ^ere  will  be  a  fight. 
Rome  would  not  permit  Luther  to  despoil  it  by  arrogant  spiritual 
pretensions;  and  there  was  a  stir  in  Europe.  No  government  that 
assumes  to  itself  all  rights,  and  doles  them  out  as  charities  to  the 
common  people,  will  ever  permit  that  common  people  to  arise  and 
assert  that  all  these  rights  are  theirs,  and  that  the  government  is 
only  a  servant — the  people's  steward.  That  very  process  is  going 
on  in  our  time  ;  and  it  can  not  go  on  peaceably.  There  must  be  up- 
roar. There  must  be  either  revolution,  which  is  misrule  let  loose,  or 
else  reformation- — and,  in  either  case,  confusion — for  the  simple  reason 
that  free  societies  never  can  move  abreast  on  any  course  wide  as 
national  life,  and  yet  move  with  the  carefulness,  and  the  order,  and 
the  prearrangement  which  belong  to  an  individual  movement. 
Masses  of  men  of  difiering  degrees  of  intelligence,  and  different  capa- 
cities of  self-government,  and  different  shades  of  feeling,  can  not  be 
coordinated  in  such  a  way  that  they  shall  act  with  the  most  perfect 
skill  and  wisdom.  And  therefore,  in  every  nation's  progress,  there 
will  be  wastage,  confusion,  and  sacrifice  of  peace — and  fitly,  too — for 
a  greater  blessing. 

When  men  would  force  you  to  do  wrong  and  commit  sin,  only  bat- 
tle will  defend  you.  You  must  fight.  Men  are  brought  into  circum- 
stances, not  unfrequently,  in  which  the  law  says  to  them,  "  You  must 
witness,  and,  on  condition  and  occasion,  participate  in,  monstrous 
wrongs ;"  and  then  every  Christian  man's  conscience  must  say,  "  No  ! 
I  will  not;"  and  he  must  resist.  It  is  a  part  of  the  comjirehen- 
sive  command,  "  Resist  the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you."    The 


PEACEABLENES8.  307 

devil  is  distributive  in  our  day.  Some  of  him  is  in  governments ; 
some  of  him  is  in  governors  ;  some  of  him  is  in  judges;  some  of  him 
is  in  commerce ;  some  of  him  is  in  one  thing,  and  some  in  another. 
There  is  a  part  of  the  devil,  and  enough  to  raise  us  up  to  vigilance 
and  conflict,  all  through  society.  And  frequently  the  orders  im- 
posed upon  men  are  such  as  to  violate  reason  and  conscience  and 
purity ;  and  then  men  must  resist.     They  can  not  live  peaceably. 

"When  men  would  inflict  wrong  on  you,  you  are  not  to  inflict 
wrong  on  others.  It  is  not  always  your  duty  to  resist  wrong  done 
to  you.  There  are  thousands  of  instances  in  which  it  is  better  to 
suflfer  Avrong  than  to  resent  it.  But  there  are  many  cases  in  which 
it  is  not  a  man's  duty  to  suffer  wrong.  In  all  cases  where  a  man 
would,  by  his  example,  take  out  of  the  community  a  bold  and  manly 
spirit  to  resist  injustice  and  wrong,  and  make  men  craven,  he  has  no 
right  to  set  that  example.  Where  men  seek  to  put  wrong  on  you, 
and  where  their  success  will  only  make  them  stronger  to  oppress 
others  that  are  weaker  than  you,  you  have  no  right  to  suffer  wrong. 
You  are  bound  to  vindicate  the  community  in  vindicating  yourself. 
There  are  cases  where  a  man's  convenience  would  counsel  him  to 
suffer  wrong,  but  where  his  conscience  and  reason  ought  to  counsel 
him  not  to  endure  it,  for  the  sake  of  others. 

All  these  circumstances  show  that  an  active  man,  full  of  life,  en- 
ergy, and  power,  who  would  contribute  to  the  advance  of  the  human 
welfare,  must  in  some  degree  be  involved  in  conflicts.  ''''If  it  is  possi- 
hle^''  it  is  said,  therefore,  "  live  peaceably  with  all  men."  There  you 
see  how  broad  the  margin  of  impossibility  is.  In  how  many  un- 
peaceable  actions  a  man  may  be  engaged,  and  yet  be  fulfilling  the 
Christian  command  !  No  man  has  a  right  to  hide  from  Ood's  battle, 
or  to  hold  back  his  hand  from  the  pi'oper  blow.  The  everlasting 
battle  between  right  and  wrong,  between  good  and  evil,  between 
the  spirit  and  the  flesh,  requires  that  every  man  should  take  sides, 
put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God,  and  stand  in  his  place,  and,  if  need 
be,  fight  to  the  end. 

"  Well,"  you  will  say,  "  your  text  has  gone  under.  You  hare 
spread  out  the  ground  broad  enough  to  destroy  all  possible  chance  of 
living  peaceably."     Let  us  see. 

"  As  much  as  lieth  in  you?''  It  is  not  an  absolute  command.  It 
carries  its  own  limitation.  "  As  much  as  possible."  It  depends 
upon  your  temper,  upon  your  spirit,  and  upon  your  wisdom.  In  ac- 
tion and  administration,  God  holds  you  responsible  for  peaceableness. 
The  peace  of  men,  and  the  peace  of  society,  must  not  be  disturbed 
by  unnecessary  provocation,  nor  by  any  undue  violence,  nor  by  a 
wrong  selection  of  times  and  seasons  and  instruments.  There  is 
both  conflict  and  peace  in  the  divine  economy.     Peace  is  the  better 


308  PEACEABLENESS. 

condition ;  and  it  is  to  be  sought  for.  Even  when  \ve  are  in  conflict, 
it  is  to  be  a  conflict  that  shall  issue,  if  possible,  in  a  better  peace. 
Even  when  we  contend,  and  agitate  men,  it  is  that,  after  a  little,  that 
agitation  may  lay  the  foundations  for  a  firmer  concord.  We  con- 
flict ;  we  fight  with  the  elements ;  we  stir  up  conflict  in  men  and  in 
society  ;  but  all  true  conflict  should  aim  at  peace,  just  as  the  sur- 
geon's knife,  by  sharp  pain,  prepares  the  patient  to  be  in  a  painless 
condition.  The  plow  is  a  great  disturber  of  the  spring ;  and  yet  it 
is  the  father  of  the  sickle.  And  conflict  may  be  so  waged,  may  be 
waged  from  such  motives,  and  with  such  discretion,  that  out  of  it 
may  grow  more  real  peace  than  could  otherwise  have  existed. 

Peace  must  not  be  confounded,  however,  with  torpor.  It  indi- 
cates a  relation  between  man  and  man  in  which  there  is  to  be  a 
friendly  intercourse,  and  a  real,  living,  vital  state,  but  not  sharp  dis- 
putations and  quarrelings.  Men  cry  "  Peace,"  frequently,  when  they 
mean  only  the  liberty  of  self-indulgence.  They  mean  the  liberty  of 
doing  nothing,  and  of  being  nothing.  And  so,  insensibly,  we  come 
to  contemn  the  word  peace.  It  becomes  a  cant  word.  And  little 
by  little  we  confound  it  with  torpidity.  And  therefore  when  we 
come  to  speak  of  peace,  and  of  seeking  it,  a  great  many  men  unwitting- 
ly say,  "  Peace  ?  Men  do  not  thrive  under  peace.  They  thrive  under 
excitement."  But  peace  and  excitement  are  not  antagonistic  or  an- 
tithetical. Peaceableness  betAveen  men  does  not  mean  quiescence, 
nor  stillness,  nor  inactivity.  It  merely  means  amiableness,  concord, 
kindliness,  agreement.  A  man  may  be  full  of  enterprise,  full  of  ener- 
gy, and  immeasurably  fruitful  in  the  products  of  life,  and  yet  be 
peaceable  with  all  men  through  whom  he  is  producing  his  harvests. 

The  true  peace — a  friendly  and  amiable  way  of  acting  among 
men — that  is  preeminently  desirable;  for  it  brings  forward  all  the 
gentler  moral  feelings.  It  colors  reason  with  the  affections,  so  that 
we  think  more  wisely.  In  the  condition  of  peaceableness  which  is 
enjoined,  as  in  our  text,  men  grow  faster  and  more  symmetrically. 
The  truth  gains  ground  more  soundly.  The  wheat  conies  with  less 
chafl"  and  less  straw.  In  that  condition  in  which  men  are  good- 
natured  and  amiable,  they  are  apt  to  be  pliable.  You  can  win  them 
from  wrong  ways.  You  can  persuade  them  to  right  ones.  They  are 
susceptible  to  good  influences.  They  do  not  resent  personal  influence. 
But  when  men  are  stirred  up,  and  are  not  at  peace  with  those  about 
them,  every  man  puts  on  his  coat  of  anus,  and  every  man  resists  his 
fellows.  There  is  no  good  influence  that  can  be  exerted  under  such 
circumstances.  And  the  command  is,  "  Live  peaceably  with  men," 
because  peaceableness,  amiableness,  gentleness,  is  precisely  the  condi- 
tion  of  the  human  heart  in  which  it  is  worth  while  for  you  to  sow 
Beed.     If  men's   evil  feelings  are  stirred  up,  they  shut  their  eyes. 


PEACEABLENES8.  309 

They  will  not  see.  They  are  made  selfish,  proud,  obstinate,  comba- 
tive. And  men  so  stirred  up  ai'e  barred  against  your  influence. 
What  men  are,  is,  to  be  sure,  dependent,  a  good  deal,  upon  the  diiFer- 
Ing  force  of  the  different  parts  of  their  disjDOsition  ;  but  it  is  also  de- 
pendent upon  the  treatment  they  receive  from  their  fello\v-men.  All 
of  a  dozen  men  under  your  care  may  be  well-nigh  demons,  if  you 
choose  to  excite  the  lower  part  of  their  nature  ;  and  these  same  men, 
under  different  treatment,  if  not  angelic,  at  least  may  be  human. 
What  men  are,  depends  largely  on  the  influences  which  you  bi"ing  to 
bear  upon  them — a  thing  which  might  well  be  considered  by  parents, 
and  teachers,  and  preachers,  and  all  administrators  over  men ;  inas- 
much as  that  which  we  call  had  is  frequently  the  product  of  our  mis- 
government,  of  our  wrong  address. 

All  men  ai-e  full  of  dogs.  Temper  is  a  gnarly  cur;  destructive- 
ness  is  a  bull-dog ;  combativeness  is  a  hound,  that  runs,  and  barks,  and 
bites.     We  are  full  of  dogs. 

When  I  was  a  boy,  and  I  would  go  over  to  Aunt  Bull's,  who  had 
several  ugly  dogs  about  her  premises,  I  used  to  go  barefooted,  and 
make  as  little  noiSe  as  possible,  and  climb  over  fences,  and  go  a 
roundabout  way,  so  as,  if  possible,  to  get  into  the  house  before  the 
dogs  knew  that  I  was  coming.  If  I  had  acted  as  many  reformers 
do,  I  should  have  gone  with  ray  pockets  full  of  stones,  and  fired 
handful  after  handful  at  the  dogs ;  and  in  the  universal  bai'king  and 
hullabaloo  should  have  said,  "  See  what  a  condition  of  things  this 
is  !  What  a  reformation  is  needed  here  !  How  the  dogs  bark  and 
bite  !"  Who  made  them  bite  ?  Thousands  of  men  are  set  to  bark- 
ing, and  thousands  of  men  are  set  venomously  to  biting,  because 
that  which  is  bad  in  them  is  so  ti'eated  that  it  is  roused  uj),  not  only 
into  oppugnancy,  but  into  dominancy. 

We  are  bound,  then,  as  one  means  of  making  bad  men  better,  to 
be  able  to  carry  ourselves,  and  to  carry  ourselves  so  as  to  put  down 
the  bad,  and  inspire  and  augment  the  good  that  is  in  them.  This  is 
a  very  high  trust,  not  often  insisted  upon  in  ordination  sermons  and 
vows;  but,  nevertheless,  we  are  bound  to  so  carry  ourselves  that  our 
presence  shall  make  the  devil  that  is  in  every  man  flee  and  hide,  and 
the  angel  that  is  in  every  man  spread  its  wings  and  come  forth 
in  white. 

A  genial,  kindly  p-Ablic  feeling  is  favorable  for  all  true  growths  to- 
ward good.  In  other  words,  the  moral  sentiments  are  more  favora- 
ble to  the  interests  of  men  than  their  passions  are.  Therefore,  in 
attempting  to  scourge  vice,  to  destroy  irrational  animalism,  to  re- 
construct bad  institutions,  and  to  advance  society  from  its  lower 
moods  and  planes  to  higher  ones,  it  is  a  thousand  times  better  to  ap- 
peal to  the  moral  sentiments,  and  even  to  wait  years  for  their  opera- 


310  PEACEABLENESS. 

tion,  than  to  stir  up  society  by  the  bottom.  For  altliongh  you  may 
get  basilar  force  ;  although  you  may,  by  making  men  angry,  and  by 
bombarding  their  pride,  produce  life,  it  is  the  life  of  that  part  of  the 
soul  which  resists  improvement  longest,  and  is  the  ha7*dest  to  be 
overcome,  and  which,  when  overcome,  leaves  the  work  of  recon- 
struction rude,  coarse,  unworkmanlike.  It  is  far  better  to  appeal  to 
the  reason  and  the  moral  sentiments,  with  all  the  force  that  you 
please,  never  losing,  for  one  single  moment,  the  key-note  of  the 
Gospel  as  a  reformatory  literature — speaking  the  truth  in  love.  You 
may  score  a  man,  and  yet  do  it  in  love.  You  may  fexpose  his  errors, 
and  yet  do  it  in  love.  You  may  flash  your  wit  upon  him,  and  yet 
do  it  genially  and  in  love.  You  may  set  a  man  against  himself,  and 
set  his  fellows  against  him,  and  incommode  him,  and  make  the  way 
of  the  transgressor  hard,  and  you  may  do  it  in  such  a  way  as  to 
make  him  bitter ;  or,  you  may  do  it  so  that  there  shall  be  a  great 
many  concurrent  tendencies  to  make  him  good-natured.  You  can 
do  almost  any  thing  with  men  if  they  are  good-natured,  and  almost 
nothing  if  they  are  bad-natured.  And  although  good-nature  is 
not  one  of  the  enumerated  fruits  of  the  Spirit, '  although  it  is  not 
piety,  yet  I  believe  that  conscience  and  good-nature  can  work  a 
hundred-fold  faster  and  better  than  conscience  alone.  And  there 
is  no  other  one  thing  that  ought  more  to  be  thought  of  before- 
hand by  those  who  go  out  among  bad  men  to  reform  them.  Just 
in  proportion  as  you  are  going  to  attack  men's  interests,  and  un- 
settle their  convictions;  just  in  proportion  as  you  mean  to  put  in 
the  plow  and  turn  the  old  sod  over — just  in  that  proportion  you 
ought,  if  you  act  wisely,  so  to  carry  yourself  as  to  keep  men's 
sympathies  and  good-nature  on  your  side.  The  very  best  skill  will 
not  enable  you  to  do  it.  There  will  be  a  thousand  currents  not  laid 
down  in  any  moral  chart ;  and  you  will  find  that  it  will  be  impossi- 
ble to  avoid  them.  .But  every  man  that  goes  out  to  influence  his 
fellow-men,  whether  in  business,  or  in  civil  afiairs,  or  in  moral  rela- 
tions, or  in  religious  rejuvenescence,  should  charge  himself  thus* 
"  If  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  me,  let  me  do  this  work 
peaceably — not  without  excitement ;  but  so  that  I  shall  perpetually 
have  access  to  men's  higher  feelings,  to  their  moral  sentiments,  to  their 
benevolence,  their  aff'ection,  their  faith,  their  confidence,  their  hope, 
their  mirthfulness."  Blessed  be  mirthfulness  I  It  is  one  of  the  reno- 
vators of  the  world.  Men  will  let  you  well-nigh  scale  them,  and 
skin  them,  if  you  will  only  make  them  laugh.  Tliere  are  a  great 
many  men  who  will  not  go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  if  you  approach 
them  soberly,  but  who  will  go  in  if  you  weave  a  sunbeam  cord  of 
mirth  to  draw  them  in  by. 

The  urgency  of  this  injunction  sliows  how  much  force  lies  in  this 


PEA  CEABLENE8S.  311 

consideration.  "  If  it  he  jyossible,  as  micch  as  lieth  in  t/oii,  live  peace- 
ably with  all  men."  Let  every  exertion  be  made.  Let  nothing  in 
your  S23irit  contribute  to  anger.     Let  nothing  hinder  peace. 

With  this  exposition,  I  will  make  a  few  applications. 

1.  We  see  the  error  of  those  who  think  that  boldness  and  harsh- 
ness and  stinging  pertinacity  fit  a  man  peculiarly  to  be  a  corrector 
of  morals.  Why,  you  might  just  as  well  set  wasps  to  drive  children 
out  of  an  orchard  where  they  were  stealing  apples !  A  wasp  may 
scare  a  child,  it  may  sting  him,  it  may  make  him  cry,  and  rub,  and 
run  ;  but  it  only  touches  the  body.  It  does  not  teach  him  the  wick- 
edness of  stealing.  It  does  not  make  him  a  better  child.  There  are 
many  who  think  that  if  men  are  only  wicked,  that  is  all  that  they  need 
be  sure  of  They  think  that  that  fact  gives  you  the  right  to  lance 
them,  to  sting  them,  to  put  the  stripes  on ;  and  that  it  does  not  mat- 
ter how  you  do  it.  And  there  are  those  who  go  at  wicked  men, 
feeling  "  They  are  in  the  wrong,  and  I  am  in  the  right ;  I  see  it  and 
know  it ;  and  I  have  the  courage  to  tell  them  so  ;  and  no  man  sliall 
deter  me."  And  so  they  fling  fire  and  coals  at  them,  thinking  that 
they  are  ordained  of  God  to  be  correctors  of  morals.  What !  by 
rousing  up  all  the  belluine  passions  ;  by  stimulating  all  the  irascible 
feelings  ;  by  turning  a  man  out  of  his  reason  into  his  passions ;  by 
throwing  clouds  over  his  higher  moral  sentiments,  and  putting  the 
force  and  axis  of  his  whole  conduct  in  the  basilar  part  of  him? 
Is  that  the  way  that  you  seek  to  be  a  censor  and  a  corrector  of 
morals?  It  is  necessary  that  a  man  should  see  clearly  what  is  right, 
and  have  strong  affinities  for  it,  and  what  is  wrong,  and  have  strong 
repulsions  from  that ;  but  that  is  not  the  only  thing  necessary  to  fit  a 
man  to  be  a  corrector  of  morals.  No  man  is  fit  to  correct  the  morals 
of  any  one  whom  he  does  not  love.  Why  do  not  children  thrive  in 
public  institutions  as  they  do  in  private  families  ?  Because  they 
are  not  so  much  loved.  You  can  not  love  a  thousand  children  as  you 
can  five  or  six,  as  you  can  not  take  care  of  a  thousand  children  as 
you  can  five  or  six.  In  the  household,  children  thrive  by  the  amount 
of  love  that  is  expended  upon  them.  If  you  do  not  love  a  man,  you 
can  not  so  tell  him  his  fault  that  that  fii;lt  will  not  be  hardened.  The 
man  must  feel  that  his  interest  is  dear  to  you.  Then  he  will  listen 
to  you.  Otherwise  he  will  array  himself  in  opposition  against  you. 
Combativeness  is  his  general,  and  rises  up  to  do  battle  in  behalf 
of  the  wrong  in  him  that  you  attack.  If  you  assault  his  position, 
every  thing  that  is  in  him  resists  you.  You  become  at  once  to  him 
an  aggressor,  an  enemy.  Every  man  is  bound,  if  he  would  be  a 
corrector  of  morals,  to  carry  a  clear  sight.  He  is  to  be  determined  ; 
lie  is  to  be  invincible.  But,  after  all,  that  is  only  the  outside  prej)ara- 
tion.     He  is  to  sj^eak  the  truth  in  love.     He  is  to  have  the  supreme 


312  PEACEABLENESS. 

power  of  overcoming  evil  with  good.  Men  do  not  like  to  hear  that. 
They  are  not  jsleased  with  the  idea  of  being  so  good,  and  bringing 
so  much  goodness  to  bear  on  men,  as  to  dissolve  their  wickedness.  It 
is  not  fashionable,  or  popular.  Yet,  after  all,  it  is  the  true  Gospel 
method.  And  he  is  ordained  to  be  a  corrector  of  morals  in  the  com- 
munity, who  has  not  only  a  clear  eye,  a  firm  hand,  and  a  courageous 
heart,  but  also  a  large  sympathetic  nature,  a  loving  heart,  as  well ;  who 
can  measure  the  good  that  is  in  bad  men ;  who  can  feel  that  there  are 
rights  in  men  who  are  wrong ;  who  can  respect  a  man  whose  conduct 
in  most  regards  is  bad,  for  the  sake  of  the  manhood  that  is  in  him. 
No  man  is  prepared  to  take  a  man  to  task  for  his  wrong,  until  he  can 
feel  that  the  man,  with  all  his  faults,  is  a  child  of  the  loving  God ; 
and  that  with  all  his  animalism  he  is  immortal,  and  shall  live  for- 
ever. But  in  this  larger  sphere  of  contemplation,  feeling  as  Christ 
felt  when  he  wept  over  Jerusalem,  and  feeling  as  he  felt  when  he 
died  for  the  sins  of  the  world,  a  man  may  be  prepared  to  correct 
sharply.  Yea,  even  as  with  a  surgeon's  excision,  he  may  cut  off 
men's  faults,  and  succeed. 

If  you  undertake  this,  and  do  not  succeed,  your  want  of  success, 
the  text  says,  must  not  be  your  fault.  If  it  he  possible  ;  as  much  as 
lieth  in  you.  If  you  have  put  forth  the  latmost  possible  endeavor,  if 
you  have  done  every  thing  you  could,  for  the  sake  of  living  peace- 
ably with  a  man  whom  you  are  attempting  to  teach  and  correct,  then 
you  will  be  exonerated  from  blame,  though  your  efforts  are  not  suc- 
cessful ;  but  not  otherwise. 

2.  We  see  the  mistaken  impression  that  truth  and  righteousness 
have  a  right  to  dictatorial  ways ;  that  they  have  a  right  to  press 
right  on,  regardless  of  consequences.  We  see  the  meaning  of  that 
maxim  which  is  so  often  employed,  that  a  man  should  do  his  duty 
and  leave  the  residts  to  God.  That  is  true ;  and  yet,  it  is  the  most 
blundering  of  all  maxims. 

In  the  day  of  battle,  a  man  takes  his  position  with  the  artillery, 
and  feels  that  his  business  is  to  load  right,  and  aim  right,  and  then 
let  fly ;  and  after  that  is  done,  he  can  say,  "  I  am  not  responsible  for 
the  consequences ;"  but  suppose  a  man  should  wheel  his  gun  round, 
so  that  it  should  not  be  anywhere  in  range  of  the  enemy,  and  should 
load  bunglingly,  and  fire  cai-elessly,  and  should  say  "  My  business  is 
only  to  load  and  fire  this  cannon,  and  God  is  to  take  care  of  the  con- 
sequences "  ?    Is  it  not  his  business  to  do  something  more  than  that  ? 

Suppose  a  man  should  stand,  with  chisel  in  hand,  at  a  lathe,  in 
which  was  a  revolving  piece  of  wood,  and  he  should  say,  "  That  may 
come  out  a  broomstick,  or  a  gunstock ;  my  business  is  to  work  pa- 
tiently, and  let  God  take  care  of  the  consequences  "? 

The  moment  you  bring  that  maxim  to  bear  on  the  lower  offices 


PEACEABLENE88.  313 

©f  life,  every  body  sees  how  absurd  it  is.  And  yet  men  say,  "  My  busi- 
ness is  to  preach,  and  let  God  take  care  of  the  consequences."  But 
there  is  no  business  in  the  Avorld  which  requires  such  sharp,  sure,  ex- 
act aim,  as  preaching  does.  There  is  no  business  in  the  world  which 
requires  that  a  man  should  have  such  forethought,  and  so  strive  to 
do  the  right  thing,  and  to  do  it  at  the  right  time  and  in  the  riglit 
manner,  as  the  exertion  of  moral  influence.  The  higher  you  go  wp  in 
human  life,  the  more  subtle  are  the  offices,  and  the  more  difficult  is 
the  carriage  of  the  soul.  A  victory  in  the  higher  range  of  life  re- 
quires ten  timds  as  much  discipline  and  skill  and  care  as  a  victory  in 
the  lower  offices  of  life.  And  yet,  in  the  lower  offices  of  life  we  hold 
men  accountable,  not  merely  for  industry,  and  fidelity,  and  good  inten- 
tions, but  for  skill  and  particularity  of  adaptation  as  well.  If  a  man 
in  business  should  prove  incompetent  for  his  position,  and  make  dis- 
astrous mistakes,  would  his  general  good  intentions  exonerate  him  ? 
If  a  man  should  hire  out  as  journeyman  in  any  mechanical  business, 
and  should  be  a  blundering,  bungling  workman,  cotild  he  fall  back 
on  his  good  intentions  ?  Would  he  be  retained  an  hour  ?  Something 
more  than  good  intentions  is  necessary.  Wo  hold  that  in  dealing 
with  material  substances  a  man  is  responsible  for  the  results  which  he 
produces.  And  in  the  higher  walks  of  life,  still  more,  every  man  is 
responsible  for  the  results  which  he  produces.  To  a  certain  extent 
this  is  absolutely  true.  The  limitations  I  have  already  mentioned. 
No  man,  because  he  is  made  a  champion  of  God's  truth  and  right- 
eousness, has  an  easy  task,  so  that  he  can  say,  "  I  have  nothing  to 
do  but  just  to  preach  the  truth ;  I  have  only  to  fling  abroad  the 
banner  of  righteousness ;  my  business  is  to  strike,  and  let  them  take 
care  who  are  under  the  blow."  ^ 

The  higher  the  truth  that  you  have,  the  higher  the  range  of  that 
truth,  the  more  important  it  is  that  you  should,  in  all  your  economy, 
in  your  whole  disposition  and  carriage,  be  worthy  of  administering 
your  high  trust.  The  vulgarity  of  men,  their  bluuderings,  are  such 
as  to  bring  contempt  on  religion  itself  And  the  higher  and  purer 
the  cause,  the  moi'e  it  should  appeal  to  men's  higher  natures,  and  not 
to  their  lower.  How  many  tliousands  of  the  most  precious  truths  of 
the  Bible  have  been  so  preached  that  men  have  learned  to  hate  them ! 
How  men  have  learned  to  hate  the  doctrine  of  absolute  dependence 
upon  God,  and  God's  sovereignty  !  There  never  was  a  child  that 
was  made  to  feel  that  it  was  absolutely  dependent;  on  the  love  and 
sympathy  and  care  of  father  and  mother,  who  did  not  bless  God  for 
that  truth.  And  yet,  when  the  very  same  thing  is  lifted  up  into  a 
higher  and  diviner  sphere ;  when  it  is  taught  that  we  are  dependent 
on  the  love  and  sympathy  and  care  of  God,  men  revolt  from  it  on  ac- 
count of  the  manner  in  which  it  is  presented  to  them.     Teachers  have 


314  PEA  CEABLENES8. 

admiuistered  the  truth  so  ruthlessly,  so  vulgarly,  and  so  disprojDor- 
tionately,  that  the  noblest  elements  of  it,  that  should  have  shined 
like  stars,  have  become  inimical  and  hateful  to  men.  And  the  high- 
er the  cause,  the  more  men  should  administer  so  that  they  should 
have  access  to  the  better  part  of  their  fellow-men,  and  not  to  the 
lower  and  worst  part. 

If  it  is  j^ossible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  teach  peaceably  ;  preach 
peaceably.  And  yet,  there  are  a  great  many  persons  who  think  that 
if  they  preach  so  that  all  their  congregation  are  stirred  up  into  a 
froth  of  indignation,  they  are  preaching  to  some  purpose  ;  and  they 
say,  "  That  shows  that  I  have  touched  the  quick.  Now  you  see  the 
depravity  of  human  nature.  I  have  probed  to  the  bottom."  Another 
man,  preaching  the  same  Gospel,  to  a  like  congregation,  when  there 
is  a  similar  state  of  things  in  the  community,  so  preaches  these  truths 
that  men  accept  them,  and  maintain  confidence  and  kindly  relations 
with  him.  The  test  which  a  great  many  propound,  is,  "If  you  have 
preached  faithfully,  men  will  act  like  the  devil ;  and  if  they  do  not  act 
so,  it  is  because  you  are  at  fault."  But  I  hold  the  spirit  of  the  Gos- 
pel to  be,  that  if  a  man  preaches  wisely  and  skillfully,  men  will  act 
better.  Even  when  it  criminates  them,  even  when  it  condemns  their 
consciences  and  their  life,  it  will  inspire  in  them,  not  repugnance,  biit 
aspiration.  Even  in  the  hearts  of  selfish  men,  the  Gospel  may  be  so 
preached  that  in  the  hours  of  their  musing  they  will  wish  that  they 
were  not  selfish.  Even  pride  may  be  so  rebuked  that  in  the  hour  of 
their  leisure  it  will  wish  it  was  less  obdurate  and  less  inexorable. 
There  is  a  spirit  in  every  body  that  longs  for  manhood,  and  it  is  our 
business  to  find  out  that  spirit,  and,  if  possible,  to  knock  at  its  very 
door ;  to  try,  S9metimes  fear,  sometimes  hope,  sometimes  love,  some- 
times reason,  sometimes  conscience,  sometimes,  in  turn,  all  the  differ- 
ent aflfections  ;  and  all  with  the  vieAV  of  leading  men  to  higher  planes, 
and  keeping  down  the  bad  that  is  in  them  while  exalting  and  empow- 
ering the  good. 

It  is  in  this  particular  direction  that  I  esteem  the  awfulness 
that  is  attached  to  Sunday,  and  church,  and  pulpit,  a  great  mis- 
take— the  greatest  mistake  of  Christendom.  It  came  in  three  hun- 
dred years  after  Christ's  time.  We  have  from  the  Romans,  as  they 
had  from  the  Tuscans,  the  element  of  fear  and  terror  in  religion. 
The  rigor  of  law  and  Roman  cruelty  came  down,  through  the 
mediaeval,  the  Roman,  and  the  Protestant  churches  to  our  time.  The 
Oriental  church  was  genial,  hopeful,  cheerful,  joyful ;  and  when  the 
golden-mouthed  Chrysostom  preached,  men  talked  with  him  out  of  the 
audience,  and  resj^onded  to  him  as  if  they  were  Methodists,  and  he 
was  a  Methodist  exhorter ;  and  interj)olations  excited  a  smile  both 
in  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it ;  and  it  was  not  considered  as  transgress- 


PEACEABLENESS.  315 

ing  the  sanctity  of  the  time.  The  heathen  element  is  that  rigor,  that 
gloom,  that  sombreness  which  locks  up  the  higher  asjDirations.  Taste 
is  good,  and  aspiration  is  good,  because  they  lighten  up  the  mind. 
Mirth  is  good,  so  that  it  is  real  mirth.  A  spurious  article  is  poor  in 
any  thing.  Where  God  has  given  a  man  the  power  to  make  truth 
brighter  by  humor,  and  he  does  not  do  it,  he  is  recreant  to  duty. 
Where  God  has  given  a  man  the  poAver  to  make  it  easier  for  men  to 
get  out  of  their  faults  by  the  use  of  wit,  he  should  employ  it  so  as  to 
serve  that  end.  Where  humor  holds  the  key  that  will  unlock  the 
door  of  the  prison  in  which  the  soul  lies,  and  let  it  out,  it  should  be 
used.  You  are  bound  to  use  every  thing  that  God  gave  you — all 
affection;  all  imagination;  all  humor  ;  all  wit;  all  reasoning;  all 
appeals  from  evei'y  faculty,  to  every  faculty  ;  and  you  are  bound  to 
use  them  in  the  sacred  line  of  exalting  men  above  that  which  is  base 
and  animal,  and  bringing  them  into  the  higher  region  of  reason  and 
moral  sentiment  and  true  spirituality. 

We  are  talking  about  what  is  going  to  save  the  world,  and  how 
religion  is  going  to  be  advanced,  and  which  church  is  to  get  ahead. 
You  never  can  tell,  by  looking  at  birds'  tail-feathers,  which  is  going 
to  fly  highest ;  and  you  can  not  tell  by  looking  at  churches,  and  their 
ordinances,  and  their  outside  apparatus,  which  is  going  to  take  the  lead. 
I  tell  you,  that  church  which  has,  first,  the  most  power  with  God, 
and  then,  next,  the  most  sj^mpathetic  power  with  men,  is  the  truest 
church.  The  spirit  of  the  Gospel  is  contained  in  the  words,  "  We 
pray  you,  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  with  God."  That  is  the 
whole  of  it.  We  are  to  use  every  thing  that  we  have,  in  the  divine 
work  of  persuading  men  to  become  sons  of  God.  That  ought  not 
to  be  a  very  operose  thing.  It  ought  not  to  be  difiicult  to  be  under- 
stood. It  ought  not  to  be  so  perplexed  and  confused  as  it  is.  Re- 
ligion is  the  simplest  thing  in  this  world,  A  child  that  knows  how 
to  love  father  and  mother,  and  to  say,  "  Dear  father "  and  "  Dear 
mother,"  knows  how  to  worship  God.  A  child  that  knows  the 
economy  of  the  household  knows  the  whole  economy  of  true  church 
government.     Nothing  can  be  simpler  than  that. 

3.  There  is  a  domestic  application  that  may  be  given  to  this  line 
of  thought,  which  is  not  unimportant  to  any  of  us. 

First,  the  abiding  fullness  of  kind  feeling  in  the  family,  in  the 
school,  in  social  companies,  will  be  a  ^^owerful  predisposing  cause  of 
peace,  and  so  of  influences  that  lead  men  to  superior  states  of  mind. 
We  usually  think  of  good-nature  as  a  matter  of  personal  accomplish- 
ment. A  man's  beauty  does  not  add  very  much  to  his  power  in  so- 
ciety. We  think  that  being  good-natured  or  bad-natured  is  a  mere 
matter  of  friction ;  that  if  a  man  is  good-natui"ed  he  gets  along  easier 


316  PEACEABLENES8. 

with  himself,  while  if  he  is  bad-natured,  it  is  harder  for  him  to  get 
along  with  himself;  and  that  it  is  his  own  business.     No,  not  at  all. 

Suppose  an  old-fashioned  tallow-candle,  in  a  little  log  hut  on  the 
edge  of  a  forest,  full  of  imperfections,  with  here  a  stick  and  there  a 
bit  of  wick,  so  that  it  guttered,  and  flared,  and  burned  dim — suppose 
that  such  a  candle  should  say,  "  I  have  a  great  many  faults,  I  know  ; 
but  I  am  ray  own  worst  enemy  ;  and  it  is  my  business."  "  No," 
says  the  man  that  is  trying  to  read,  "  it  concerns  me  more  than  it 
does  you  ;"  and  he  snuffs  it  often,  and  longs  for  some  better  light. 

A  father  stands  in  the  family,  and  says,  "  I  know  I  am  cross 
and  unreasonable,  until  after  I  have  had  my  coffee ;  but  I  am  my 
own  worst  enemy."  No,  you  are  not.  You  are  your  wife's  ene- 
my ;  you  are  your  children's  enemy ;  you  are  your  servants'  enemy. 
You  are  bound  to  stand  in  your  household  as  a  fountain  of  good- 
nature. You  are  not  only  to  be  as  good-natured  as  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  household  are,  but  you  are  to  be  the  high-priest  to  set 
before  them  an  example  of  good-nature.  Parents  generally  reverse 
this.  They  seem  to  think  that  children  are  bound  to  behave  well 
because  they  have  their  fortune  to  make ;  but  that,  as  for  them,  who 
have  made  their  fortune — who  are  married  and  have  a  family — it 
does  not  matter  so  much.  Yet,  it  is  precisely  the  reverse.  A  man 
that  has  been  exalted,  through  well-doing,  to  some  eminence  of  posi- 
tion, is  bound,  on  account  of  his  very  suiDeriority,  to  be  better  than 
if  he  had  not  reached  up  to  it. 

The  man  and  the  woman  that  are  prepared  to  be  married,  should 
be  put  to  the  test  of  being  able  to  bridle  their  spirits.  Two  persons 
that  can  not  agree  with  each  other,  and  can  not  agree  with  those 
outside  of  them,  are  not  fit  to  be  married.  They  light  the  torch  of 
discord.  The  match  is  a  sulphurous  match,  and  is  stenchful  and  suf- 
focating, that  lights  their  love.  Persons  that  are  in  such  close  and 
intimate  relations  as  those  of  the  household  should  be  concordant. 
They  should  have  in  them  a  tendency  to  live  peaceably  with  them- 
selves and  every  body  else.  And  in  proportion  as  persons  stand 
high,  the  motive  and  the  obligation  are  intensified.  The  greater  a 
man  is,  the  greater  are  his  moral  obligations.  The  higher  a  man  is, 
the  higher  should  be  the  influences  which  he  exerts. 

Frets,  complaints,  sarcasms,  petty  selfishnesses — all  these  are  pre- 
disposing causes  of  evil.  Tliey  are  not  merely  the  signs  of  moral 
disease  in  you,  but  they  are  so  many  inoculations  of  the  same  disease 
in  your  children,  in  your  servants,  in  all  the  members  of  your  family. 

Every  household  should  include  in  itself  the  causes  of  good- 
nature, not  only  in  the  leaders,  but  also  in  those  that  are  subjects. 
I  have  heard  a  great  many  family  prayers,  and  made  a  great  many. 
I  have  heard  men,  in  family  prayer,  confess  their  wickedness,  and 


PEACEABLENE8S.  317 

pray  that  God  would  forgive  them  the  sins  that  they  got  from 
Adam,  and  the  sins  that  they  found  out  for  themselves — which,  I  sus- 
pect, were  a  great  deal  more  mimerous  than  the  others ! — but  I  do 
not  know  that  I  ever  heard  a  father,  in  family  prayer,  confess  that 
he  had  a  bad  temper.  I  never  heard  a  mother  confess  in  family 
prayer  that  she  was  irritable  and  snappish.  I  never  heard  persons 
bewail  those  sins  which  are  the  engineers  and  artificers  of  the  moral 
condition  of  the  family.  The  angel  would  not  know  what  to  do  with 
a  prayer  that  began,  "  Lord,  thou  knowest  that  I  am  a  scold ;"  and 
yet  I  think  that  prayer.  Avould  go  up,  angel  or  no  angel,  it  is  so  true, 
and  so  wholesome  to  have  been  made.  If  there  is  anywhere  that 
this  law,  "  As  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live  peaceably  with  all  men," 
should  be  written  in  letters  of  gold,  it  is  in  the  family ;  but  how 
much  there  is  there  of  selfishness ;  how  much  of  pride ;  how  much 
of  the  passions;  and  how  little  of  honoring  others;  how  little  that 
studies  others'  welfare ;  how  little  of  patience ;  how  little  of  forbear- 
ing with  men ;  how  little  of  speaking  the  truth  in  love — in  short, 
how  little  of  heaven,  and  how  much  of  hell ! 

Now,  this  is  rather  a  serious  matter.  I  must  apologize  for  preach- 
ing, on  such  a  hot  day  as  this,  a  sermon  that  comes  right  home  to 
you,  and  means  business — for  this  does  mean  business.  Yoii  listened 
to  me  with  a  great  deal  of  patience  when  I  was  speaking  about 
reformers  and  ministers,  and  that  class  of  people ;  and  you  said,  very 
likely,  "As  good  as  they  deserve."  Perhaps  you  will  not  be  so 
patient  when  I  say  that  there  is  not  a  man  or  woman  here  who  has 
not  occasion,  in  sackcloth,  to  confess  that  he  or  she  has  desecrated 
that  most  sacred  temple,  the  household,  and  poured  out  again  and 
again,  there,  before  God,  the  turbid  streams  that  spring  from  the 
morass  of  the  passions,  while  the  pure  and  crystal  streams  from  the 
higher  altitude  of  the  soul  have  been  few  and  far  between. 

Repent,  my  dear  Christian  brethren.  Take  this  matter  home.  The 
family  is  a  school  as  well  as  a  home  ;  and  children  brought  up  quar- 
relingly,  or  enviously,  or  discontentedly,  in  time  will  become  propa- 
gators of  just  the  same  malign  economy  in  other  families.  Among 
friends,  in  social  life,  in  schools,  in  churches,  and  in  business,  men  may 
perform  their  duties  either  combatively  and  arrogantly  and  pro- 
vokingly,  or  gently,  winningly,  peaceably.  It  may  be  necessary  for 
you  to  tell  a  man  his  faults;  but  it  is  not  necessary  that  you  should 
shoot  him,  or  speak  to  him  as  though  your  words  were  fired  from  the 
mouth  of  a  rifle.  In  proportion  as  he  is  fxulty,  he  needs  to  be  correct- 
ed. In  proportion  as  he  is  faulty,  he  w^ll  jii'obably  resent  aggression ; 
and  in  that  proportion  you  need  to  administer  correction  cautiously 
and  kindly.  A  man  should  pray,  sometimes,  a  whole  week,  perhaps, 
in  order  to  get  himself  into  the  right  mood  to  go  to  a  friend  and  tell 


318  PEACEABLENE8S. 

him  his  faults.  Oh  !  not  they  are  my  greatest  friends  who  kiss  me 
most;  who  caress  me  most;  who  flatter  me  most.  Not  they  are  my 
truest  friends  who  put  their  hand  upon  my  head,  and  are  proud  of 
me.  They  that  deny  themselves  of  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  making 
me  better  ;  they  that  incur  the  risk  of  anger  and  dislocation  of  friend- 
ship for  the  sake  of  telling  me  a  truth  that  nobody  else  dares  to  tell 
me,  and  that  I  die  for  the  want  of  hearing  ;  they  that  are  more  choice 
of  my  soul's  interior  and  essential  good  than  they  are  of  my  satisfac- 
tion with  the  pride  and  vanities  of  life,  and  seek  to  be  physician  to 
my  soul — they  are  my  best  friends.  That  mother  who  searches 
her  child  as  with  a  lighted  candle,  and  yet  with  such  motherly  love 
that  the  child  can  and  does  endure  it,  is  the  best  mother  ;  and  the  best 
father,  the  best  brother,  the  best  sister,  and  the  best  friend,  are  not 
those  who  flatter  you,  but  those  who  scour  you,  and  explore  your 
lives,  and  love  you,  and  are  solicitous  for  your  highest  welfare, 
that  you  may  have  the  right  to  do  it,  and  the  power  to  do  it. 

We  are  called  to  expose  men's  errors,  and  rebuke  their  wrongs,  and 
correct  their  faults  ;  and  we  can  doit  with  our  claws  or  with  our  lips. 
We  can  do  it  as  animals,  or  as  angels.  We  can  do  it  in  the  spirit  of 
wrong,  or  we  can  do  it  in  the  spirit  of  right.  We  can  do  it  with  love,  or 
we  can  do  it  with  pride  and  temper.  The  administration  of  rebuke  by 
the  lower  feelings,  invariably  excites  the  lower  feelings  of  those  who 
are  exposed  to  this  tempest  and  this  storm.  The  feeling  that  you  carry 
to  a  man  you  will  awaken  in  him.  If  yon  carry  patience  to  him,  very 
soon  he  will  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  his  own  impatience.  If  you  carry 
pride  to  him,  very  soon  he  will  be  as  jDroud  as  you  are.  If  you  carry 
gentleness  to  him,  he  will  very  soon  be  ashamed  of  his  irritableness 
and  excitableness.  If  you  withhold  respect  from  him,  he  will  lack 
respect  for  you.  If  you  treat  him  as  an  equal,  he  will  very  soon  be- 
come your  companioij  and  your  friend.  When  you  want  to  rebuke  a 
man,  love  him  as  a  mother  loves  her  child.  Then  you  become  or- 
dained a"  high-priest,  and  you  can  discharge  these  painful  duties  pro- 
fitably. Otherwise,  you  do  not  live  peaceably  with  him,  and  it  is  your 
own  fault. 

It  is  the  duty  of  all  that  live  with  others  to  repress  the  evil  that  is 
in  them,  and  to  excite  the  good  that  is  in  them.  That  is  a  part  of  this 
comprehensive  declaration. 

I  might  divide  men  into  two  classes — those  that  have  an  instinc- 
tive power  to  wake  up  the  bad  that  is  in  their  fellow-men,  and  those  that 
have  an  instinctive  power  to  wake  up  the  good  that  is  in  them. 
Every  discerning  person,  every  student  of  human  natui'e,  has  noticed 
this.  Some  men,  when  they  leave  you,  leave  you  at  disagreement 
with  all  your  kind.  There  are  just  such  men  as  there  are  days.  I 
used  to  see  men,  in  Boston,  on  sunshiny  days,  gloomy  and  irritable. 


PEACEABLENE88.  319 

and  out  of  joint  with  themselves  and  every  hody  else,  who  could 
not  understand  their  feelings  until  they  looked  up  at  the  steeple  and 
saw  that  the  wind  was  in  the  east;  and  then  they  said,  "Oh  !  it  is 
the  east  wind."  They  understood  it  then.  With  some  men,  although 
the  day  may  be  bright  and  clear,  the  east  wind  is  in  the  air.  I  have 
seen  men  who  were  cheery  and  smiling,  and  who  seemed  to  be  fine, 
good  fellows,  but  who  left  you  chilly  and  ugly.  You  do  not  like 
people,  you  do  not  trust  j^eople,  and  the  world  does  not  seem  such  a 
good  place  to  you,  when  you  have  been  in  their  company.  There  are 
other  men  who,  when  they  have  been  with  you,  have  had  the  opposite 
effect  upon  you. 

I  have  often  seen  the  sharpest  sword  enveloped  in  a  sheath  of 
plush  ;  and  yet  it  was  as  keen  as  a  Damascus  blade.  I  have  seen 
men  whose  tongue  was  just  like  such  a  sword.  Their  words  were 
soft  and  gentle,  but  they  sucked  blood  at  every  stroke.  You  feel  dis- 
agreeable when  they  have  been  with  you.  They  saw  the  bad  that 
was  in  you,  and  liked  to  throw  it  up  to  sight.  Such  meu  will  take 
men's  faults,  as  jugglers  do  balls,  and  keep  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten 
going  up  in  the  air  all  the  time  !  Let  some  men  go  into  a  school,  and 
the  children,  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  will  all  begin  to  be  restless, 
and  irritable,  and  ugly.  And  so  it  is  in  commanding  men.  Some 
captains  and  some  generals  have  a  dislocating  effect  on  the  soldiers 
that  are  under  them.  There  is  something  in  them  that  drives  men 
apart,  and  makes  them  ugly.  Some  men  can  not  live  with  others 
without  gaining  their  ill  will.  There  are  persons  who,  on  going  into 
a  family,  will  in  a  week's  time  have  every  body  in  that  fomily  against 
them.  Some  men  will  go  about  throwing  sparks  of  fire  among  other 
people,  till  every  body  is  irritable ;  and  then  they  will  say,  "  How  wick- 
ed it  is  that  these  people  should  be  so  irritable  !"  They  made  them  so. 
I  have  seen  men  who,  if  people  did  not  Avorship  them,  or  if  men  seemed 
opposed  to  them,  felt  that  these  people  were  arrogant,  and  proud, 
and  wicked.  Some  men  think  that  the  pride  of  the  world  is  immense, 
and  nobody  sees  half  so  much  pride  in  the  woi'ld  as  proud  peojjle  do. 
They  make  it.  They  stir  it  up.  You  will  find  that  every  man  has 
pride  enough  in  him,  if  you  approach  him  in  such  a  way  as  to  draw  it 
out.  There  is  a  vast  amount  of  ugliness  in  human  nature  that  will  show 
itself,  if  you  deal  with  men  so  as  to  excite  it.  If  you  choose  to  take 
a  pole,  and  stir  up  men  from  the  bottom,  you  will  find  plenty  of  mud. 
On  the  other  hand,  every  man  has  imagination,  and  Faith,  and 
hope,  and  love,  and  aspiration — a  yearning  for  things  noble,  and  pure, 
and  true  ;  and  these  qualities  can  be  stimulated  to  action.  There  is 
an  element  of  self-sacrifice  in  every  body,  and  it  is  in  the  power  of  per- 
sons to  stimulate  that.  I  have  known  a  woman  to  go  into  a  country 
village,  and  gather  about  her  the  children  of  coarse,  blunt  people,  and 


320  PEACEABLENESS. 

in  one  summer's  time  breathe  the  spirit  of  heroism  into  every  liLilo 
child  in  tjiat  neighborhood.  She  had  the  power  of  touching  "the  best 
side  of  their  nature.  She  had  a  spirit  in  her  which  waked  up  the  no- 
bler part,  the  godly  part,  the  heavenly  part  of  their  being. 

If,  then,  it  is  our  duty,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  to  live  peaceably 
with  all  men,  we  are  to  see  to  it  we  do  not  stir  up  the  bad  part  of 
those  by  whom  we  are  surrounded  in  our  stations  in  life — in  the 
store,  in  the  shop,  in  our  business,  wherever  we  are.  And  we  are  to 
test  our  life  by  the  effects  which  we  are  producing  on  other  men. 
If  we  wake  nj)  in  them  the  noble  and  divine  elements,  that  is  evi- 
dence that  we  have  God's  spirit'  in  us.  Iff  is  the  devil  that  stirs  iip 
evil  among  men.  It  is  God  that  stills  the  troubled  sea,  and  causes 
its  mire  and  dirt  at  last  to  sink  to  the  bottom.  This  is  the  test  that 
every  man  should  propose  to  himself. 

Christian  brethren,  take  home  Avith  you  this  passage  that  I  have 
recited,  with  some  enlargement,  and  with  varied  applications ;  and 
not  simply  to  tell  what  you  think  of  the  sermon,  but  to  measure 
your  own  disposition,  and  to  form  a  true  judgment  in  respect  to  the 
way  in  which  you  are  living. 

The  shipmaster  that  has  sailed  for  days  and  days  without  an  ob 
servation,  if  there  is  a  moment  in  Avhich  the  cloud  opens,  catches  a 
view  of  the  sun,  if  it  be  day,  or  of  a  star,  if  it  be  night ;  and,  though 
the  cloud  shuts  again  in  a, moment,  he  has  his  data;  and  now  he  can 
make  his  calciilation,  and  tell  just  where  he  is.  It  is  these  momentary 
openings  of  truth  that  give  you  the  opportunity,  sometimes,  to  take 
data,  and  ascertain  where  you  are,  morally ;  where  in  love ;  where 
along  the  scale  on  which  men  measure  goodness  or  badness.  Take 
this  truth,  I  beseech  of  you,  and  see  whether  your  life  is  making 
men  better,  sweeter  tempered,  more  peaceable ;  whether  you  carry 
yourself  so  as  to  secure  the  cooperation  of  those  round  about  you, 
or  so  as  to  excite  their  opposition  against  you  ;  whether  you  call 
forth  men's  higher  and  better  feelings,  or  stir  up  in  them  anger,  and 
pride,  and  vanity,  and  hateful  passions. 

Remember  that,  at  the  last,  God  will  call  you  to  account,  not  sim- 
ply for  what  you  have  done  to  yourselves,  but  also  for  what  you 
have  done  to  those  who  are  his  children  and  your  brethren.  Your 
unconscious  influence  is  doing  more  good  or  more  bad  than  all  the 
good  or  all  the  bad  that  yon  purpose  to  do,  and  that  you  try  to  do. 
God  meaiit  that  we  should  live  in  such  an  abiding  temper  of  love, 
that,  whether  conscious  or  unconscious,  our  influences  should  tend  to 
peaceableness. 


PEACEABLENJESS.  321 


PRAYER    BEFORE   THE    SERMON.* 

We  thank  thee,  our  Father,  that  thou  hast  quickened  our  knowledge  of  thee, 
and  that  thou  art  in  the  centre  of  our  homes,  by  the  voice  of  our  little  ones,  teach- 
ing us  to  say  to  thee,  as  they  say  to  us,  Our  Father.  We  know  something 
of  the  meaning  of  that  in  them  ;  and  as  we  interpret  their  confidence  and  faith 
in  the  simplicity  of  love,  so  may  we  know  how  to  draw  near  to  thee  with  a  cor- 
responding experience.  Though  they  are  dependent  and  ignorant,  and  con- 
stantly erring,  we  feel  that  our  love  is  large  enough  to  forgive  them,  and  that 
our  wisdom  is  large  enough  for  their  need,  and  that  all  our  life  is  a  sacrifice — a 
living  one — for  them.  For  them  we  toil ;  for  them  we  suffer  inconvenience  ;  for 
them  we  give  up  our  time  and  our  rights ;  for  them  we  willingly  take  on  weariness 
and  pain  ;  for  them  we  live  ;  and  we  pour  our  life  into  their  souls,  that  they  may 
grow  up  in  a  self-sustaining  and  fruitful  life.  And  hast  thou  not  herein  taught 
us  what  thou  art  ?  What  is  the  wonder  of  thy  living  sacrifice,  set  forth  and  mani- 
fested in  Jesus  Christ,  and  more  gloriously  eflfulging  in  the  everlasting  life  of  God 
in  heaven,  forever  bearing  the  sorrow,  the  inexperience,  the  suffering,  the  sin  and 
the  wickedness  of  the  world,  teaching,  restraining,  punishing,  all  in  love,  to  rear 
up  generations  that  shall  serve  thee ! 

Blessed  be  thy  name,  O  Lord  God !  that  we  need  not  go  up  into  the  heaven, 
nor  down  into  the  deep,  nor  far  away  on  the  wings  of  philosophy,  to  know  who 
thou  art,  and  what  thou  art.  Thou  hast  written  thy  nature  upon  our  souls. 
Thou  hast  interpreted  thyself  in  our  own  best  feelings.  Thou  art  no  longer  re- 
minding us  of  thee  by  the  thunder  of  Sinai,  or  by  the  suffering  of  Calvary  ;  but 
thou  art  by  the  teachings  of  both  giving  us  to  understand  what  secret  things 
were  hidden  from  the  foundations  of  the  world  in  those  whom  thou  hast  made  in 
thine  own  image.  Thou  art  bringing  forth  ;  thou  art  teaching ;  and  behold,  all 
things  reveal  thee  to  those  that  seek  thee.  For  thou  art  in  the  heaven  and  on 
tlie  earth,  in  the  night  and  in  the  day,  and  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth. 
W^liere  shall  we  go  that  we  may  flee  from  thy  presence  ?  Thou  art  everywhere ; 
and  on  all  things  which  thou  hast  made  thou  hast  left  thine  impress.  We  rejoice 
in  the  fullness  of  the  knowledge  which  thou  hast  given  to  the  world  of  thee. 
And  we  pray  that  the  blindness  of  our  own  hearts,  and  the  misinterpretations  of 
our  passions,  and  our  mistakes,  may  no  longer  hinder  our  seeing  the  bright  and 
glorious  face  of  God,  or  of  Jesus.  Grant  that  we  may  see  and  rejoice  in  him  as 
our  soul's  best  Friend,  our  beloved  Saviour,  our  appointed  Head.  May  we  clasp, 
by  faith  and  love,  Jesus  our  Forerunner  and  Intercessor,  and,  following  humbly 
in  his  footsteps  and  in  his  spirit,  wait  for  the  clearer  and  more  blessed  revelation 
of  the  fullness  of  his  nature,  and  by  the  divine  nature  in  him  be  led  to  the  land  of 
knowledge  and  of  perpetual  light. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  thy  servants  that  gather 
together  this  morning  to  worship.  Bless,  according  to  their  several  necessities, 
all  that  are  here.  For  thou  knowest  the  secrets  of  every  heart.  Cares  and 
troubles  are  familiar  to  thee.  Sorrow  and  anguish  are  knowledge  which  thou 
hast  had  since  men  lived.  Thou  knowest  how  to  make  the  crooked  way  straight; 
and  the  rough  way  smooth.  Thou  knowest  how  to  subdue  unruly  passions,  and 
to  teach  meu  so.  Thou  knowest  how  to  interpret  thine  own  providences,  and  to 
teach  thy  servants  how  to  see  the  end.  Thou  knowest  how  to  inspire  faith,  and 
by  that  faith  to  give  fortitude.    Grant  to  all  thy  servants,  according  to  their  need, 

•  Immediately  following  the  baptism  of  children. 


322  PEAGEABLENESS. 

these  various  blessings  of  tliy  providence.  And  grant,  not  by  tlie  wisdom  'of 
tbei Trailing  and  asking,  but  by  the  wisdom  of  thine  interpretation.  And  still 
keep  the  burdens  upon  those  who  must  needs  bear  them  for  their  good,  though 
they  ask  that  they  may  be  removed.  Still  say  to  those  that  would  have  the 
thorns  removed  from  their  side.  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.  Still  say  to  those 
that  are  bowed  down  in  tears  and  in  darkness.  The  morning  shall  come :  bear 
with  the  night.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those  who  are  tempted  may  find  thee 
near  to  them,  strengthening  them,  and  giving  them  victory  over  temptations. 
We  pray  that  thou  wilt  point  to  the  path  of  duty  those  who  are  bewildered  and 
xmcertain.  May  none  be  afraid  to  follow  their  feelings,  that  lead  to  purity,  and 
love  to  God,  and  all  that  is  good.  Take  away  the  selfishness  which  superstition 
hath  imposed  in  all  the  world.  Grant  that  those  blinding  fears,  and  those  grind- 
ing doubts,  and  those  oppressive  misconceptions,  which  do  so  cloud  the  glory  of 
God  from  so  many  minds,  may  be  altogether  taken  away  by  the  bright  teaching 
of  thy  Holy  Spirit.,  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  teach  us  all  how  to  cleanse  our 
hearts.  Teach  us  how  to  hold  the  animal  in  subjection,  and  how  to  let  our  true 
manhood  go  forth  in  power,  and  reign. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  in  this  church  that  go  forth  and  are  labor- 
ing in  word  and  in  doctrine ;  all  that  go  forth  on  missions  of  mercy ;  all  that 
supervise  institutions  for  the  welfare  of  society  ;  all  that  are  teachers,  or  are 
teaching.     Grant  that  their  labor  may  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 

We  pray  thee,  be  with  those  who  are  scattered  abroad  from  us,  sitting  every 
one  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree.  Grant  that  everywhere  it  shall  be  the 
Lord's  wing  that  shall  overshadow  them.  Give  them  coolness  in  the  midst  of 
summer.  Grant  that  everywhere  they  may  sow  the  seed  of  the  word.  Every- 
where, by  their  example,  and  purity,  and  sweet  aflfection,  may  they  teach  men 
the  glorious  way  of  righteousness  ;  and  may  they  be  witnesses  of  him  by  whose 
blood  they  are  cleansed  ;  by  faith  of  whom  they  live  and  hope.  And  we  pray 
that  thou  wilt  bring  again  all  our  wandering  ones  from  their  wide  dispersions, 
and  that  by  and  by  we  may  once  more,  with  renewed  strength  and  vigor,  take 
hold  of  the  labors  of  the  year. 

Bless  thy  cause  everywhere.  Remember  all  thy  churches.  Take  away 
divisions  and  heart-burnings  from  among  them.  Grant  that  they  may  see  eye  to 
eye,  and  be  no  longer  arrayed  in  battle,  one  against  another.  Grant  that  a  com- 
mon love,  a  common  faith,  and  a  common  Redeemer  may  so  far  bring  thy  people 
of  every  name  together,  that  they  shall  love,  accept,  and  rejoice  in  each  other. 
We  pray  that  thy  kingdom  may  come,  over  all  darkness  and  superstition  and 
wrong,  and  that  the  whole  earth  may  be  filled  with  thy  g^ory. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  shall  be  praises  everlasting. 
Amen. 


XIX. 

Soul-Drifting. 


SOUL-DRIFTING. 


SUNDAY  MORNING,  JULY   18,' 1869. 


"Which  hope  we  have  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both  sure  and  steadfast,  and 
which  entereth  into  that  within  the  vail." — Heb.  vi.  19. 


"When  a  ship  is  sailing,  the  anchor  is  of  no  use ;  but  when  the 
ship  would  lie  still,  it  is  the  anchor  that  holds  it."  It  is  not  alone  a 
storm  that  requires  tlie  good  offices  of  an  anchor.  In  the  calmness 
of  the  harbor,  a  ship  needs  it.  In  the  fairest  weather,  when  winds 
are  as  gentle  as  if  a  dove's  wings  bad  produced  them,  a  shij)  will 
still  drift.  The  silent  current,  the  soft  palms  of  the  tiniest  ripples 
that  plash  against  the  sides,  gradually  push  her  along  ;  and  she  will 
ground  upon  the  flats,  or  strike  upon  the  shore,  or  grate  upon  the 
harsh  ledges.  So  long  as  a  ship  is  under  headway,  the  rudder  can 
hold  her  to  her  course  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  is  sheltered,  and  would 
fain  lie  still,  she  must  have  an  anchor. 

The  soul  is  like  a  ship.  So  long  as  it  is  moving  with  strong  im- 
pulsion, it  holds  its  course  easily.  When  earnest  impulses  cease,  then, 
unless  something  holds  the  soul  steadfast,  it  drifts  ;  and  drifting  is 
far  more  dangerous  to  a  soul  than  to  a  ghip.  It  drifts  into  doubt ; 
and  out  of  doubts  come  morbid  impulses ;  and  out  of  morbid  im- 
pulses come  reactions  of  the  most  dangerous  kind. 

The  soul,  thus  bestead,  suiFers,  and  despairs,  and  sometimes  is 
driven  up  by  tides  and  winds,  in  some  vernal  or  autumnal  night,  so 
far  on  the  sand  that  the  waters,  once  gone,  never  come  so  high  again. 
It  lies  wrecked. 

What  a  ship  is  on  the  sand,  cracking  in  the  sun,  gaping  at  every 
seam,  useless,  pitiable,  unable  to  help  itself  or  be  helped — that  is  the 
soul,  drifting,  and  gone  up  on  the  arid  sands  of  unbelief 

For  hundreds  of  years,  religious  unbelief  has  been  treated  as  a  sin, 


► 


Lesson  :  Heb.  vi.    IItmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  6G8,  531,  i 


324  SOUL-DBIFTINQ. 

and  even  as  a  crime.  Literally,  millions  of  men  have  been  ignomi- 
niously  executed  for  unbelief — unbelief,  too,  in  systems  and  doctrines 
the  belief  in'wliich  a  hundred  years  later  would  have  been  regarded 
as  another  sin  and  an  atrocious  lolly.  Unbelief  has  had  no  rights  in 
this  world. 

That  there  is  an  irreligion  which  is  most  culpable  before  God,  and 
should  be  disreputable  among  men,  I  do  not  doubt.  When  the  passions 
are  full-blooded  ;  when  men  say,  in  the  violence  of  pride  and  appetite, 
"  I  will  not  have  this  man  to  rule  over  me ;"  then,  I  hold,  such 
irreligion  is  dishonorable  to  manhood  and  culpable  before  God. 
The  obscuration  of  faith  by  the  poisonous  vapors  arising  from  men's 
lower  nature  is  a  crime  against  a  man's  own  soul.  But  to  suppose 
that  all  unbelief  is  of  this  type,  is  to  be  ignorant  of  the  most  signifi- 
cant and  profoundly  afiecting  of  the  soul's  higher  experiences. 

Surely,  no  man  can  have  read  the  biographies  of  holy  men,  no 
man  can  have  been  conversant  with  the  living  experiences  of  men  of 
strong  intellectual  activities  and  strong  moral  yearnings,  who  takes 
this  view.  No  man  can  be  other  than  very  shallow  who  supposes 
that  unbelief  is,  in  and  of  itself,  and  always,  a  sin. 

It  would  not  be  wise  to  say  that  great  natures  must  doubt — for 
that  is  not  true ;  and  yet,  there  is  a  certain  form  of  doubt  which  may 
be  said  never  to  exist  except  in  souls  of  a  highly  susceptible  moral 
nature.  And  as  unbelief,  in  a  malignant  form,  is  characteristic  of 
the  lower  jjassions,  so  likewise  there  is  an  unbelief  which  is  charac- 
teristic of  the  very  highest  spiritual  feelings.  This  kind  of  unbelief 
is  to  be  treated  with  the  utmost  sympathy  and  tenderness.  To  stig. 
matize  it,  to  make  it  odious,  to  alarm  the  subjects  of  it  by  threats,  is 
to  sin  against  those  who  are  already  overburdened  with  suffering ; 
and,  as  I  believe,  is  to  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  often  is  lead- 
ing such  men  through  the  wilderness  forty  years,  as  God  led  his  peo- 
ple through  the  wilderness,  and  into  the  promised  land  at  last. 

Such  doubting  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  cold  indifference 
of  educated  materialism,  nor  with  the  flippant  and  arrogant  dissent 
of  a  shallow  worldly  nature,  nor  with  the  roistering  infidelity  of  vul- 
gar and  ignorant  men,  plunging  headlong  into  all  uncleanness.  To 
rank  them  all  under  one  name,  as  if  they  were  of  one  substance  and 
of  one  moral  nature,  is  gross  indiscrimination  not  only,  but  gross 
injustice.  It  is  the  doubt  of  perplexed  consciences,  often.  It  is  the 
reluctant  unbelief  of  men  who  strive  to  hold  on  to -that  which  they 
received  from  their  parents  as  a  precious  legacy,  and  see  it  crumbling 
in  their  hands. 

It  is  the  drifting  of  sensitive  natures,  famished  and  hungering, 
and  searching  for  soinething  that  shall  feed  them. 

While  the  night  is  full  of  stinging  insects,  and  of  hard,  blundering 


so  UL-DBIFTI^^G.  305 

beetles,  there  are  also  exquisite  moths,  soft-vvingecl,  and  of  a  beauty 
that  one  marf  els  at,  since  they  live  and  die  in  darkness ;  and  these 
exquisite  moths  fly  at  the  light  just  as  really  as  the  blundering  bee- 
tles ;  yea,  and  often  ijerisli  in  it.  And  so,  although  in  the  night  of 
unbelief  there  be  many  noxious  insects,  there  be  some  fair  and  beau- 
teous ones,  too. 

Allow  me  to  delineate  so  many  of  the  cases  of  soul-driftin"-  as 
shall  open  to  you  the  nature  and  the  causes  of  it,  and  some  sugges- 
tions, also,  as  to  its  remedy.     If  I  mistake  not,  it  is  a  condition  of 
things  which  is  widely  prevalent,  and  which  is  growing  rather  than 
losing  ground.     I  doubt  not  there  are  members  of  this  congreo-ation 
with  upturned  faces  before  me ;  I  doubt  not  there  are  multitudes 
who  are  members  of  churches,  and  Avho  j^refer  to  be  classed  with 
Christians,  who,  if  they  were  to  speak  their  doubts,  would  say  that 
they  have  np  comfort  of  their  faith ;  that  it  is  more  a  pain  than  a 
pleasure  to  them;  that  it  is  filled  with  a  thousand  uncertainties  to 
every  single  certainty.    And  surely,  there  ought  to  be  some  physician 
for  such  souls.     There  ought  to  be  some  one  who,  with  gentle  teach- 
ing, and  sympathetic  feeling,  should  minister  to  the  wants  of  those 
who  are  unwillingly  losing  their  hold  on  positive  religion,  an^  who 
really  would  be  thankful  to  get   again  any  such  view,  or  any  such 
hold,  as  would  restore  to  them,  in  any  measure,  the  joy  Avhich  they 
once  had,  or  the  joy  which  they  imagine  belongs  to  the  Christian  life. 
Let  it  be  premised,  then,  that  the  constructive  element  is  one  of 
the  rarest  talents  in  the  world,  and  that,  when  men  liave  unsettled 
themselves  from  religious  belief  or  religious  cohesions,  tlie  power  to 
reconstruct  a  ground  and  to  reconstruct  a  system  is  one  of  the  rarest 
human  powers  that  has  ever  been  revealed.     Thousands  of  persons 
feel  that  it  is  a  sign  of  shrewdness  and  capacity  to  think  beyond  their 
fathers  ;  to  unsettle  their  own  miuds.     There  is  the  feeling  that  reason 
is  great,  and  will  prevail ;  and  that  a  man  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  j)ut 
out  boldly,  if  he  would  find  out  and  settle  upon  the  grounds  of  truth. 
Men  in  this  respect  are  like  four-year  old  children,  that,  going 
down  to  the  shore  from  the  cottage  on  the  sea-side,  and  finding  fas- 
tened there  a  boat,  with  vari'ous  appliances  with  which  to  mana,ge  it, 
think  they  will  try  their  hand  at  navigation.     It  has  been  the  custom 
of  their  elders  and  betters  to  have,  as  a  means  of  navigating  boats, 
sails,  and  oars,  and  a  tiller,  with  a  rudder  attached ;  but  these  chil- 
dren" say,  "  Let  us  not  be  bound  by  our  flithers'  notions."     And  so, 
with  might  and  main,  they  heave  the  mast  and  the  sails  overboard ; 
and  then  one  oar  goes  over ;  and  then  the  other  goes  over ;  and  then, 
unfastening  the  painter,  they  climb  into  the  boat.     And  then,  laughing 
and  saying,  "  Now  for  a  voyage  of  the  newest  fashion  !"  they  push 
off.    And  when  once  the  boat  is  set  free,  the  tide  takes  her,  and,  as 


326  SOUL-DBIFTING. 

tliere  is  nothing  to  steer  her,  she  goes  whirling  round  and  round,  or 
drifting  in  this  direction  or  that,  at  the  mercy  of  the* waves.  And 
when  they  are  for  from  the  land,  and  the  night  is  coming  on,  and  the 
sea  begins  to  be  turbulent,  then,  without  sails,  without  oars,  without 
rudder,  and  without  the  capacity  to  manage  the  boat,  with  their  lit- 
tle i^alras  they  try,  over  the  side,  to  paddle  her  back.  But  what 
can  those  little  four-year  old  children  do  toward  paddling  that  mas- 
terly boat,  Avith  the  wind  and  tide  against  them,  and  with  no  power 
.  but  that  of  their  little  palms  ?  And  j'et  tliey  are  mighty  to  manage 
that  boat,  compared  to  men  who  unharness  faith,  and  throw  off  its 
spars,  its  oars,  its  ordinary  means  of  navigation,  and  say,  "  Now, 
having  got  rid  of  these  superstitions,  we  will  paddle  our  new  views 
and  systems  in  our  own  way." 

It  is  not  difficult  for  a  man  to  unsettle  his  beliefs  ;  but  the  power  to 
again  lay  the  foundation  of  beliefs,  to  fashion  them,  and  to  systematize 
them,  is  the  rarest  that  can  be  conceived  of.  Almost  any  other  form 
of  genius  is  given  a  hundred  times  where  philosophical  constructive 
genius  is  given  once.  To  form  a  definite,  coherent  system  of  religious 
belief,  requires  one  of  the  rai*est  endowments  that  God  ever  vouch- 
safed to  this  world.  It  requires  a  comprehensiveness,  an  insight,  and 
a  special  kind  of  wisdom,  singular  among  all  the  different  wisdoms. 
It  requires  a  patience  of  investigation,  and  then  a  long  ripening  of 
knov\^ledge,  such  as  hot  one  man  in  an  age  has  given  to  him.  It  is  far 
more  likely  that  there  will  be  another  Homer,  than  that  there  will  be 
another  Augustine  ;  that  there  will  be  another  Shakespeare,  than  that 
there  will  be  another  Calvin  ;  that  there  will  be  another  Milton, 
than  that  there  will  be  another  Arminius ;  that  there  will  be  another 
Dante,  than  that  there  will  be  another  Edwards. 

When,  therefore,  men  think  that  to  unsettle  their  belief  is  not  a 
perilous  experiment,  they  are  very  greatly  mistaken ;  for  it  is  a  gulf 
darker  and  more  dangerous,  perhaps,  than  any  other  into  M^hich  a 
man  can  precipitate  himself. 

One  of  the  great  causes  of  soul-drifting  is  the  heedlessness  with 
which  men  part,  early  in  life,  from  their  hereditary  faith,  and  from 
those  symbols  of  thought  and  feeling  round  about  which  education 
has  associated  the  most  precious  habits  of  the  mind.  For  things  are 
like  words  ;  and  words  are  men's  soul-journals.  What  is  motherhwt 
a  register,  a  book,  as  it  Nvere,  in  which  each  of  you  has  laid  up  the 
most  precious  thoughts  of  that  sainted  one  ?  What  is  father,  what 
is  loife  or  husbcmd,  what  is  sister  or  brother,  what  is  home,  what  is 
hearth,  what  are  all  these  familiar  words,  but  simply  words  that  con- 
tain in  them  a  whole  world  full  of  your  own  life  ?  And  when  they 
sound  in  your  ear,  they  mean  the  things  that  you  have  experienced. 

Independent  of  its  absolute  usefulness,  an  ordinance  or  an  act  of 


so  UL-DBIFTING.  327. 

Avorshlp  IS  like  a  word.  It  stores  up  in  itself  certain  moral  associa- 
tions. And  a  doctrine  that  is  absolutely  false,  as  a  mere  matter  of 
philosophical  fact,  may  yet  have  stood  so  affiliated  in  a  system  that, 
without  seeing  its  falsity,  you  shall  have  associated  with  it  the  most 
precious  experiences  of  your  soul-life  And  I  say  that  it  is  not  lightly 
to  be  thrown  away.  Xeitlier  an  ordinance,  nor  a  ceremony,  nor  a 
usage,  nor  a  doctrinal  statement — even  though  it  may  not  be  the  best 
thing — even  though,  in  some  sense,  it  may  be  imperfect  and  erroneous, 
shoul4  be  hastily  set  aside.  It  is  not  a  safe  thing  to  take  away  from  a 
man  those  usages,  those  doctrines,  those  customs,  which  by  long  educa- 
tion have  stored  up  in  them  the  best  thoughts,  the  best  moral  and  re- 
ligious feelings,  and  the  best  impulses.  Take,  for  example,  the  sacri- 
fice of  Christ.  As  we  have  been  educated,  what  is  sweeter  than  the 
thought  of  Christ's  dying  for  men  and  atoning  for  the  sins  of  the 
world?  What  is  there  that  touches  the  soul  with  so  potent  a  hand 
and  wakes  such  deep  feelings  in  our  souls,  as  the  doctrine  of  the  sacri- 
fice of  Christ  ?  Many  of  us  ai'e  accustomed  to  think  of  all  high  and 
stately  things  in  association  with  this  particular  view  ;  and  we  do  not 
know  our  own  names  unless  they  are  associated  with  it;  and  you  can 
not  evoke  from  our  souls  the  deepest  religious  experience  except  in 
connection  with  those  instruments  which  we  have  trained  our  hearts 
up  to.  Therefore,  if  a  man  should  disprove  this  view,  as  a  matter  of 
history  and  fact  and  philosophy ;  if  he  should  take  it  suddenly  away 
from  us,  he  would  take  away  our  Lord,  He  would  take  away  the 
thing  that  we  had  learned  to  act  Christianly  in  connection  Avith. 

It  may  be  .true  that  when  you  planted  your  grape-vine  you  ought 
not  to  have  used  common  oak  timber  for  the  trellis.  You  may  say, 
"  That  kind  of  wood  rots  very  quick.  It  will  not  stand  the  weather 
long.  I  ought  to  have  chosen  cedar.  That  Avould  have  stood  a  thou- 
sand years."  Nevertheless,  you  chose  perishable  wood.  The  vine 
has  been  growing  ten  years,  and  has  clambered  all  over  the  trellis. 
And  you  say,  "  This  is  not  a  good  trellis.  The  vine  is  magnificent ; 
but  the  trellis  is  perishable.  It  ought  never  to  have  been  built  of 
such  timber.  I  will  take  it  away,  and  put  another  in  its  place."  And 
you  go  and  get  your  ax,  and  hew  down  one  corner-post,  and  then 
another,  and  then  another,  and  then  the  other ;  and  then  you  strike 
out  the  middle  one,  and  down  goes  the  trellis ;  and  Avith  it  doAvn  goes 
the  vine.  And  when  it  lies  full  on  the  ground,  helpless  and  di- 
sheveled, you  begin  to  think,  "  How  shall  I  get  it  up  again  ?"  It  is 
easier  to  get  down  a  vine  that  runs  forty  feet  in  every  direction  than 
to  get  it  up.  And  by  the  time  you  hav^got  it  propped  up,  and  have 
built  a  new  trellis  under  it,  Avhat  with  rude  twistings,  and  wild 
sweepings,  and  rough  handlings,  the  vine  itself  will  be  so  much  dam- 
aged that  the  whole  top,  nearly,  will  haye  to  be  cut  ofi*;  and  the  vine 


328  BOUL-DEIFTING. 

will  have  to  start  again  almost  from  the  root ;  and  it  will  be  years 
before  it  will  regain  its  former  size  and  strength. 

Your  theology  is  your  trellis.  Your  form  of  worship  may  or  may 
not  be  true ;  but  you  have  been  taught  from  your  cradle  to  associate 
obedience,  sympathy,  gratitude,  love,  the  various  moral  elements, 
with  certain  philosophical  statements  ;  and  when  you  have  become 
habituated  thus  to  associate  them,  it  is  not  safe,  even  if  those  philo- 
sophical statements  are  false,  to  take  them  away  suddenly.  It  is  to 
be  done  by  taking  away  one  single  post  while  you  are  putting  an- 
other in  its  place,  so  that  the  great  outward  form  shall  not  be  dis- 
turbed. The  new  is  little  by  little  to  be  substituted  for  the  old. 
Sudden,  sweeping  changes  are  pernicious.  There  are  cases  in  which 
even  such  changes  are  desirable ;  that  is  to  say,  there  are  cases  in 
tvhich  the  mischiefs  of  bad  government  in  a  community  are  so  great 
that  the  most  violent  revolutions  are  bettef  than  the  stagnation 
and  miasma  of  the  old  state  of  things.  But,  ordinarily  speaking,  it 
is  not  so. 

Next  to  the  danger  of  being  stagnant  is  the  danger  of  moving. 
There  is  no  man  on  earth  who  is  not  in  danger.  If  he  stands  still, 
he  is  in  danger ;  and  if  he  goes  ahead,  he  is  in  danger.  Life  is  one 
comprehensive  danger  in  one  point  of  view,  and  in  another  point  of 
view  it  is  one  comprehensive  safety. 

As  soon  as  various  causes  have  acted  to  remove  one  from  his 
moorings,  the  drifting  will  begin.  And  as  the  noblest  natures  can 
not  be  happy  without  religion — without  food  from  the  invisible  and 
the  infinite — for  their  spiritual  sense,  so,  the  moment  they  begin  to 
drift  away  from  settled  ground,  from  firm  anchorage,  from  a  perma- 
nent position,  they  begin  to  be  unhaj^py. 

1.  Men  are  set  adrift  by  an  early  and  over-enterprising  attempt 
to  go  out  and  battle  in  the  armor  of  theology.  This  is  particularly 
true  in  the  schools  of  eminent  intellectual  theology,  such  as  the 
schools  of  Calvin  and  Augustine.  The  elements  which  constitute 
the  highest  schools  of  theologj'-  range  into  the  infinite  and  the  uni- 
versal. On  this  vei-y  account  they  are  fascinating.  A  young  and 
bold  intellect  scorns  the  lower  and  the  more  familiar  forms.  There 
is  something  peculiarly  thrilling  to  the  imagination  in  running  along 
the  lines  of  tlie  infinite  goveniment,  and  taking  in,  if  possible,  the 
absolute  and  the  universal.  The  moment  men  attempt  to  run 
through  theological  systems,  the  moment  they  attempt  to  solve 
great  problems  that  arise  in  them,  they  find  themselves  overtaxed 
and  overtasked.  David,  g»ing  out  to  battle  with  Goliath,  wearing 
Saul's  armor,  which  was  a  world  too  big  for  him,  is  the  model  of 
Davids  ever  since  attempting  to  go  out  into  the  battle  of  practical 
life  incased  in  the  vast  armor  of  these  infinite  propositional  systems. 


SOUL-DRIFTING.  329 

I  have  known  not  a  few  who  were  set  afloat  by  Edwards  on  the 
Will.  I  have  known  not  a  few  who  have  taken  up  the  great  theorems 
of  Calvinism — the  relations  of  the  divine  nature  and  the  divine 
government  to  human  character  and  human  condition  j  and  in  at- 
tempting to  adjust  in  their  minds  ail  the  lines  of  these  great  systems, 
they  have  come  into  infinite  confusion. 

Once  afloat,  by  the  intellectual  and  reasoning  process,  the  law 
comes  in  by  which  letting  go  one  belief  before  you  have  taken  an- 
other shocks  the  moral  constitution.  Man  is  so  essentially  a  believ- 
ing animal,  that  the  moment  you  take  faith  away  from  him,  you  take 
away  an  element  which  is  indispensable  to  his  spiritual,  and  so  to  his 
normal  life.  And  if  you  see  a  thing  to  be  false,  your  business  is,  not 
to  accept  it  as  a  truth,  but  to  take  the  true  thing.  It  is  better,  how- 
ever, to  hold  a  fable  than  to  drop  the  fable  without  having  any  thing 
to  take  its  place.  A  fable  held  is  better  than  nothing.  A  positive 
believing  element  is  the  salvation  of  a  man's  soul.  It  is  scarcely 
less  than  declared  to  be  that  when  it  is  said  that  we  are  saved  by 
faith.  The  declaration  is,  that  we  are  saved  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ. 
But  if  there  were  no  afiirmation  of  salvation  in  Christ,  we  might 
still  say,  "  We  are  saved  by  faith  ;"  for  men  must  have  positive  be- 
liefs— and  nowhere  so  much  as  in  the  higher  realm  of  moral  life. 
Therefore  it  is  that  the  unsettling  the  grounds  of  theological  thought 
is  attended  with  peril.  There  is  a  law  by  which  transition  in  belief 
is  dangerous.  Transition  from  a  lower  belief  to  a  higher  belief,  from 
a  false  belief  to  a  true  belief,  is  wise ;  but  transition  from  a  false  be- 
lief to  nothing,  is  worse  than  to  believe  a  lie. 

Here  stands  a  ladder.  Broad  the  ladder  is,  and  wide  are  the 
rounds.  May  not  a  man  that  has  been  walking  on  the  ground  go  up 
a  step  ?  Yes,  if  there  is  a  round  for  him  to  step  on,  he  may.  May 
he  not  go  up  higher  ?  Certainly  he  may,  if  there  is  another  round 
for  him  to  go  up  on.  May  he  not  take  a  thii'd  step  ?  Yes,  he  may 
take  a  third  step.  But  there  the  rounds  end.  And  if  a  man,  under 
the  force  of  theory,  says,  "  One  should  not  stop  right  in  the  middle 
of  a  ladder ;  he  ought  to  keep  ascending,"  and  takes  another  step, 
he  steps  into  the  air  and  goes  headlong  to  the  ground.  You  may  go 
up  as  long  as  there  are  rounds  for  you  to  put  your  feet  on  ;  but  when 
the  rounds  cease,  then  your  progress  must  cease.  You  may  not  like 
it ;  but  it  is  your  misfoi-tune,  and  it  is  your  inevitable  necessity. 

When  a  man  is  going  from  one  religious  truth  to  another,  as  long 
as  he  steps  from  a  lower  one  to  one  that  is  ampler  and  larger,  he  is 
safe.  He  has  something  substantial  that  bears  him  up.  But  if  a 
man  simply  says,  "  This  step  and  that  step  are  poor  and  false,  and  I 
will  not  have  them,"  and  he  has  nothing  else,  he  plunges  right  into 


330  SOUL-DBTFTINO.      " 

anoval  disease — into  tliat  negative  state  in  which  there  is  no  faith -and 
no  belief. 

What  a  fly  is  whose  head  is  cut  off,  ^that  has  no  steerino-  power 
and  using  its  wings  and  legs,  whirls  round  and  round,  preliminary 
to  dying,  that  a  man  is  who  has  lost  his  faith.  He  is  a  headless 
insect.  And  yet  there  are  multitudes  of  men  who  think  it  necessary 
to  their  honesty  that  they  should  abandon  their  old  beliefs  as  soon 
as  they  suspect  that  they  are  erroneous.  But  neither  honesty,  nor 
conscience,  nor  reason,  nor  any  thing  else  requires  that  a  man  should 
give  up  his  old  faith  before  he  is  well-grounded  in  a  better  one.  Xo 
man,  by  any  notions  of  sincerity,  or  frankness,  or  boldness,  is  bound, 
in  any  philosophical  investigation,  to  go  a  step  further  than  he  can 
find  solid  footing.  No  man  has  a  right  to  unsettle  in  his  own  mind 
beliefs  that  he  has  held,  until  he  can  substitute  for  them  something 
that  will  more  than  fill  their  place.  It  is  not  investigation,  it  is  not 
exploring,  to  go  on  forming  theories  or  constructing  systems  which 
you  are  not  able  to  reduce  to  practical  forms.  And  yet  this  is  one  of 
the  most  witching  and  one  of  the  most  facile  temptations  which  beset 
the  young — and  beset  them  on  the  side  of  their  generosity. 

A  young  man  comes  into  life,  feeling,  "  I  must  be  true  to  myself; 
I  must  be  true  to  ray  convictions."  Yes,  if  you  have  any  thing  that 
is  worth  being  true  to,  you  must  be  true  to  it ;  but  if  a  man  has  au 
empty  buzz-box  which  he  calls  his  convictions,  and  he  has  nothing 
which  is  the  result  of  real  thought  and  accumulation ;  if  he  has 
nothing  but  a  sort  of  electric  fantasy,  must  he  give  up  every  thing 
that  has  been  accounted  sacred  before,  for  the  sake  of  being  true  to 
that  emptiness  in  his  head  ?  I  trow  not.  Many  men,  when  they  are 
started  along  the  line  of  new  thought  which  has  played  upon  their 
minds  until  there  seems  a  presumption  that  it  is  a  thing  rightly 
stated,  or  that  it  is  a  better  statement  than  the  old  one,  think  that 
they  must  sound  a  trumpet  before  them ;  that  they  must  run  and  de- 
clare right  and  left  what  they  have  found  out ;  that  they  must  ring 
bells,  and  proclaim,  "  A  new  truth  has  been  born  !"  The  probability 
is,  that  it  is  an  idea  which  has  been  thought  of  a  hundred  times,  and 
a  hundred  times  better  than  you  have  thought  of  it,  and  that  you 
are  exposing  your  ignorance.  But  how  many  men  there  are  who 
can  not  wait !  How  many  men  there  are  who  suppose  that  their  min- 
ister has  thought  a  great  many  things  beyond  what  he  preaches  ;  and 
who  say,  "  I  believe  he  has  a  good  deal  that  he  keeps  back."  He 
is  a  fool  if  he  has  not !  A  man  that  pi-eaches  all  he  knows  is  not  fit 
to  preach  again  !  Is  there  nothing  to  ripen  ?  Is  a  man  a  prophet  ? 
Does  he  foresee  at  once  accurately  and  all  ?  Is  there  no  such  thing  as 
a  patient  collecting  of  ficts,  and  a  patient  organizing  of  them,  and  a 
patient  comparing  of  a  man's  views  with  those  of  other  men,  and  a 


so  UL-DBIFTING.  331 

patient  settling  upon  that  truth  which  shall  bear  the  weight  of  his 
soul,  and  his  child's  soul,  and  other  people's  souls  ?  Must  a  man,  in 
order  to  reap  the  poor  tribute  of  shallow  sincerity,  rush  headlong 
into  every  new  light,  that  may  be  fancy  or  fantasy,  and  preach  it, 
because  he  has  thought  of  it  ?  It  is  a  solemn  business  for  a  man  to 
teach,  when  he  believes  tiiat  his  immortality  and  the  immortality  of 
others  turns  on  what  he  teaches.  And  the  man  who  says,  "  I  will 
preach  to-day  what  I  think  now,  and  to-morrow  I  will  preach  what 
I  think  then" — I  wonder  that  he  ever  escaped  from  the  bundle  of, 
straw  to  which  he  belongs ;  for  his  whole  body  is  but  straw,  and  his 
head  is  but  ohaff!  This  unsettling  process ;  the  supposition  that  a 
man  can  by  his  thoughts  easily  I'econstruct  a  system  of  the  infinite 
and  universal,  has  the  marks  of  inexperience  in  its  inception,  and 
very  soon  will  leave  the  marks  of  ruin  in  its  pi'ogress.  It  sets  a  man 
adrift  from  the  foundations  of  his  fathers,  and  from  his  own  early 
foundations.  And  worse  than  all,  it  sets  him  adrift  without  any 
prospect  of  coming  to  anchorage.  It  destroys  the  foundations  and 
superstructure  that  have  been  built,  and  leaves  him  helpless  to  build 
new  foundations  and  a  new  superstructure. 

2.  The  various  idolatrous  partialisms  in  the  church  have  been  the 
cause  of  a  vast  amount  of  unsettling  and  of  drifting — and  that,  too, 
of  t^jie  best  natures.  There  is  an  idolatry  of  dogma ;  there  is  an 
idolatry  of  external  forms;  and  there  is  an  idolatiy  of  spiritualism. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  true  Christian  religion  is  a  universal  religion. 
It  includes  elements  of  all  religions.  It  has  in  it  dogma  ;  but  it  is 
not  made  up  wholly  of  dogma.  It  has  in  it  external  forms  ;  but  it  is 
not  Avholly  dependent  on  external  forms.  It  has  in  it  spiritualism ; 
but  spiritualism  is  not  the  whole  of  it.  It  has  practical  morality ; 
but  practical  morality  is  not  the  foundation  and  the  superstructure 
of  the  whole  system.  Christ  is  God  to  us.  Christianity  represents 
Christ  to  us.  It  is  encyclopedaic.  It  is  universal.  Whenever 
it  is  perfect  and  full,  it  will  have  in  it  something  of  every  thing.  At 
present,  the  elements  which  constitute  the  universal  Christianity  are 
distributed  through  all  the  sects.  There  is  not  one  sect  that  has  them 
all.  Some  have  one  thing  in  preeminence  ;  others  have  in  pre- 
eminence another  thing.  Each  has  a  part  of  the  whole  truth.  They 
are  all  partialists.  Any  one  of  them  has  enough  of  the  truth 
for  the  salvation  of  the  soul ;  but  no  one  of  them  has  enough  of  the 
truth  for  the  construction  of  the  universal  system  of  Christianity. 
This  is  more  than  is  found  in  any  church  or  sect ;  and  it  is  repre- 
sented, so  far  as  it  is  represented,  by  all  the  developments  of  all  the 
sects.     It  has  never  had  exposition  from  any  one  place. 

A  man  who  has  been  brought  up  to  a  system  of  doctrine,  precise 
and  exact  to  the  very  minutiaj — we  will  say,  the  Calvinistic  sys- 


332  SOUL-DBIFTma. 

tem — will  sometimes  cOrae  to  a  point  in  his  life  in  which  he  will  find 
that  he  can  no  longer  accept  that  system.  He  has  been  taught  that 
that  is  Christianity — not  that  it  is  one  way  of  representing  one  side 
of  universal  Christianity,  but  that  it  is  the  essence  of  it.  He  has 
been  brought  up  to  believe  that  if  a  man  deflects  so  much  as  the  tenth 
part  of  a  hair  from  it,  he  has  gone  aside  from  the  revealed  truth. 
Men  make  no  distinction  between  the  Bible  and  the  system  which 
has  been  wrought  out  of  the  Bible,  though  there  is  just  as  much  dif- 
ference between  the  truth  in  the  Bible  and  systems  that  are  wrought 
out  of  it  as  there  is  between  the  iron  ore  from  the  mines  of  Penn- 
sylvania and  the  implements  that  are  forged  out  of  that  ore.  You 
may  make  tools  out  of  the  ore  of  the  Bible,  and  they  may  be  good 
tools  ;  but  they  are  not  divine,  because  you  made  them.  There  are 
many  persons  who  have  been  brought  up  to  believe  that  the  great 
truths  of  Calvinism  are  the  marroAV  of  Christianity.  I  admire  them; 
but  I  do  not  admire  all  the  statements  of  them,  and  I  do  not  believe 
that  they  cover  the  whole  gi'ound.  I  believe  there  are  other  things 
which  are  true  besides  what  they  contain.  I  am  a  heretic,  if  at  all, 
by  more  and  not  by  less  believing.  I  see  that,  to  a  certain  extent 
and  in  certain  relations,  these  doctrines  are  true ;  and  in  certain 
other  relations  I  do  not  think  they  are  just  or  true.  And  this  I  ob- 
ject to — bringing  up  a  person  of  sensitive,  thoughtful,  fruitful  mind, 
with  such  an  idolatry  of  dogma  that  when,  growing,  he  finds  that  his 
thoughts  overrun  it,  and  that  he  can  no  longer  accept  it,  he  shall  feel 
that  he  has  rejected  Christianity,  because  he  has  rejected  a  partial- 
ism  or  dogma. 

Let  me  say,  that  an  element  of  feeling  enters  here  which  is 
almost  never  recognized,  but  which  is  vital,  tlf  a  man,  or  set 
of  men,  intellectually  well  endowed,  are  under  the  predominant 
influence  of  conscience  and  self-esteem — those  great  and  power- 
ful organizing  spiritual  instincts  —  they  will  almost  invariably  be 
led  to  take  sides  with  law,  and  with  government,  and  with  the 
governor.  They  believe  in  justice  ;  they  believe  in  law  as  the  instru- 
ment of  justice  ;  they  believe  in  penalty  as  a  means  of  enforcing  jus- 
tice. They  feel  it.  It  is  in  them  by  their  organization.  Send  these 
men  to  the  Bible,  and  they  will,  by  an  elective  afiinity,  select  all 
those  texts  that  are  imperative.  Thou  shalt  sounds  as  sweet  to  them 
as  music.  It  is  law  that  they  love  ;  it  is  justice  that  they  seek : 
and  they  find  traces  of  them  everywhere.  When,  therefore,  they 
have  framed  a  system,  it  will  be  found  that  it  is  Calvinistic,  and  that 
it  exalts  God  as  sovereign,  and  as  a  Being  that  governs  by  law. 
And  they  will  say,  "  That  is  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth." 

There  grows  up  a  son  in  the  family.    He  is  the  child  not  alone 


SOUL-DBIFTING.  333 

of  bis  father,  but  of  his  mother ;  and  she  came  through  a  different 
training.  And  benevolence  in  the  son  is  stronger  than  conscience  ; 
though  he  is  not  deficient  in  conscience.  Sympathy  is  stronger  in 
him  than  self-esteem.  He  has  the  most  ardent  yearnings,  therefore, 
on  the  side  of  kindness.  When  he  thinks  of  men,  he  thinks  of  them 
lovingly  and  kindly.  And  although  he  believes  in  law,  after  all,  his 
native  symj^athies  run  toward  the  governed,  and  not  toward  the 
government.  And  when  he  goes  to  the  Bible,  although  he  recog- 
nizes the  great  elements  of  justice,  and  government,  and  sovereignty,- 
and  God,  yet  he  does  not  feel  that  these  cover  the  whole  ground. 
He  sees  also  set  forth  in  the  Bible  the  truths  of  pity,  and  mercy, 
and  benevolence.  And  there  arises  in  his  mind,  speedily,  an  idea  of 
government  in  which  there  is  not  so  much  sternness,  and  not  so  much 
inevitableness,  but  more  of  lenity,  fewer  conditions,  more  help,  more 
beneficence,  without  the  domination  of  conscience.  He  has  an  ele- 
ment of  feeling  which  leads  him  to  select  another  class  of  intellectual 
elements,  and  form  another  system.  He  is  a  natural-born  Arminian ; 
but  he  does  not  know  it,  any  more  than  his  father  knows  that  he  i& 
himself  a  natural-born  Calvinist. 

I  see  in  the  Methodist  Church  men  of  whom  I  say,  "  What  under 
the  sun  are  they  tliere  for  ?  They  are  Calvinists.  I  know  it  by  the 
cut  of  their  head."  I  see  some  men  in  the  Calvinistic  church,  who,  if 
you  put  the  screws  on,  and  bring  them  right  down  to  what  they  really 
believe  in  their  soul,  are  no  more  Calvinists  than — you  are  !  It  is  not 
in  them. 

JMen  say  that  feeling  has  nothing  to  do  with  convictions.  I  say 
that  on  subjects  of  social  and  moral  truth,  feeling  is  more  determinate 
of  results  than  the  intellect  itself  is.  What  a  man  thinks  in  regard  to 
social  and  moral  truths,  depends  upon  the  color  that  is  thrown  into 
his  intellect  while  thinking ;  and  the  color  is  injected  by  some  one  or 
other  of  the  great  constitutional  emotions  or  feelings.  A  man  that 
is  predominantly  stern  on  the  side  of  justice,'  and  predominantly  firm 
on  the  side  of  self-importance,  and  so  on  the  side  of  the  importance  of 
rigorous  government,  leans  naturally  toward  the  Calvinistic  mode  of 
thinking.  But  a  man  that  is  full  of  tenderness,  and  gentleness,  and 
sympathy,  and  benevolence,  and  love  is  constitutionally  inclined  to 
inject  his  intellect  with  these  elements. 

There  are  two  fundamental  influences  that  are  driving  these  men 
apart,  though  they  do  not  know  it ;  and  one  says,  "  It  is  contumacy 
that  leads  you  to  deny  Calvinism;"  and  the  other  says,  "It  is  nothing 
but  folly  that  leads  you  to  adopt  it."  And  so  they  stand,  one  over 
against  the  other.  Each  of  them  is  right  in  some  sense  ;  and  yet  each 
is  fighting  the  other  for  taking  the  view  that  he  does.  Suppose  I  should 
take  a  Gradgriud — a  man  with  a  hard,  practical  nature — and  a  poet 


334  so  UL-DRIFTING. 

and  put  them  out  in  a  field,  and  say,  "  Now  prophesy  !"  Gradgnnd 
would  say,  "  This  farm  is  not  worth  fifty  cents  an  acre."  The  poet 
would  say,  "How  exquisite  are  these  flowers!  What  a  beautiful 
piece  of  ground  this  is  !"  "  Beautiful  piece  of  ground,  with  a  venge- 
ance!"  says  Gradgrind.  "It  is  swampy,  and  you  can  not  drain  it, 
and  nothing  will  grow  on  it."  "  O  what  perspectives !"  says  the 
poet.  "  How  beautiful  the  lines  are !  I  wish  I  had  the  power  to  draw 
them."  "  The  only  good  thing  there  is  about  it,"  says  Gradgrind, 
. "  is  that  tree  out  there."  "  Oh !  it  is  divine,"  says  the  poet.  "  What 
,a  beautiful  form  it  has !"  "  Form  be  hanged,"  says  Gradgrind.  "  It 
will  cut  about  four  cords  of  wood,  and  bring  about  six  dollars  in  the 
market !"  One  of  them  sees  form,  and  the  other  money ;  one  color, 
and  the  other  profit ;  one  what  the  soil  will  produce,  and  the  other 
what  beauty  there  is  in  the  landscape,  in  its  lines,  and  in  the  receding 
perspectives.  And  each  is  true  to  himself;  that  is,  each  is  true  to  the 
class  of  feelings  through  which  he  is  looking,  and  from  which  he  is 
acting.  And  do  you  suppose  that  this  is  true  in  ordinary  life,  in  bus- 
iness life,  in  political  life,  and  that  it  is  not  true  in  theological  life  ? 
It  is  preeminently  true  there. 

The  time  will  come  when  men  will  not  be  held  to  such  a  rigid 
responsibility  for  theological  exactitudes  of  belief.  The  harm  is  in 
driving  men  to  think  contrary  to  the  pattern  of  their  constitution, 
and  teaching  them  that  only  that  view  which  is  exposed  to  their 
minds  by  such  and  such  constitutional  peculiarities  is  the  truth  ; 
whereas,  that  which  is  of  the  very  ojDposite  tendency  is  also  the  truth, 
and  the  two  put  together  are  more  a  truth  than  either  of  them  alone, 
and  both  of  them  together,  supplemented  by  four  or  five  other  ele- 
ments, would  only  begin  to  constitute  the  universal  form  of  truth. 

That  leads  me  to  say.  If  you  take  a  man  of  poetic  sentiment,,  you 
can  scarcely  get  him  into  the  Arminian  Church,  as  represented  by  the 
Methodists,  nor  into  the  Calvinistic  Church,  as  represented  by  the 
Presbyterians.  If  he  be  full  of  tender  associations  and  sweet  seeings, 
he  will  incline  towai-d  the  Episcopal  Church.  If  you  add  the  element 
of  veneration,  he  says,  "  1  want  to  worship.  I  do  not  feel  any  great 
need  of  thinking ;  I  do  not  care  for  your  heavy  sermons,  when  you 
preach  the  doctrine  of  government :  my  soul  is  hungry.  I  want  gen- 
tle, sweet,  beauteous  influences."  And  the  moment  the  organ  sounds, 
and  the  priests  come  in  wearing  their  vestments,  he  is  impressed  by 
the  harmony  and  order  and  symmetry  which  prevail.  A  thousand 
covert,  glancing  ideas  are  brought  to  him,  which  just  touch  that 
which  is  in  him  ;  and  he  says,  "  That  is  divine.  Noav  I  have  found 
rest.  This  is  beautiful."  It  is  beautiful  to  him.  Why  not  let  him 
have  it  ? 

Christianity  spreads  a  table  longer  and  richer  than  any  hotel  ia 


SOUL-DBIFTINQ.  335 

the  land.  When  you  sit  down  at  the  table  in  a  hotel,  you  never  eat 
the  whole  bill  of  fare,  but  take  what  you  want ;  and  your  neighbor 
only  takes  what  he  wants ;  and  both  of  you  are  well  fed.  You  that 
eat  beef,  and  you  that  eat  mutton,  and  you  that  eat  chickens,  and 
you  that  eat  fish,  and  you  that  take  dessert,  and  you  that  eschew 
dessert,  all  being  well  fed,  grow  and  thrive.  And  so  it  is  at  the 
table  of  the  Lord.  Some  want  high  doctrine,  and  some  do  not  want 
any  doctrine  ;  some  want  moral  sentiment,  and  some  scorn  it ;  some 
want  moralities,  and  some,  pure  spiritualities.  But  a  little  of  every 
thing  is  better  than  one  thing  alone.  So  let  men  feed  on  that  which 
will  nourish  them  and  develop  them  into  manhood.  ^ 

We  are  partialists.  We  see  through  a  glass  darkly.  We  see 
only  in  part,  and  know  only  in  part.  This  is  the  declaration  of  that 
sublime  philosopher,  Paul,  who,  though  stalwart  for  truth,  recognized 
the  individual  liberty  of  man's  soul,  and  recognized  the  partialism  of 
all  men — of  himself  among  the  rest.  Now  we  see  only  in  parts ;  we 
see  only  fragments. 

Under  all  these  circumstances,  to  hold  men  to  one  form  of  belief 
— the  formalist  to  formalism,  and  the  anti-formalist  to  the  barrenness 
of  no  forms  and  ceremonies ;  the  high  doctrinaire  to  mere  doctrine, 
and  the  moralist  to  mere  morality — this  is  to  fit  the  truth  to  only 
one  side  of  their  nature. 

When  the  child  whose  parents  are  confined  in  their  belief  to 
a  given  system  begins  to  grow  up,  and  he  finds  that  his  wants 
and  desires  are  not  met  by  that  system,  and  he  says,  "  I  can  not  be- 
lieve this  system,"  he  is  told,  plumply,  "  Then  you  will  be  damned ! 
You  are  a  lost  man !"  And  he  says,  "  I  will  tiy  again,  then."  And 
he  does  try  again,  but  he  can  not  swallow  the  system.  And  then  he 
says,  "  Suppose  I  am  damned,  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  am  skeptical ;  I 
am  an  unbeliever  ;  and  I  will  not  pretend  that  I  believe."  And  ■ 
then,  when  he  thinks  of  his  old  father  and  mother,  of  his  childhood 
home,  of  the  village  church,  and  of  the  good  old  spectacled  preacher, 
who,  though  he  preached  cold  doctrines  had  a  warm  heart,  he  says, 
"  I  will  go  back  to  my  old  faith.  I  do  believe  it."  And  then,  when 
he  gets  over  that  mood,  and  comes  into  an  entirely  different  train  of 
thought,  he  says,  acting  under  the  influence  of  another  class  of  facul- 
ties, "  No,  I  do  not  believe  it,  I  can  not  believe  it,  and  I  will  not  be- 
lieve it."     And  so  he  swings,  and  vibrates,  and  drifts. 

What  is  the  matter  with  that  man  ?  Why  is  he  not  allowed  to 
take  that  which  his  soul  craves,  in  the  great  bounty  of  truth,  which 
is  more  than  any  church  holds,  and  more  than  any  man  knows  how 
to  comprehend  and  believe  ?  Are  there  no  more  stars  than  those 
which  we  have  catalogued  ?    And  if  there  are,  may  they  not  shine  ? 


336  SOUL-DRIFTINQ. 

Are  there  no  other  thmgs  but  those  which  have  been  expounded  by 
one  set  of  minds  ? 

I  have  seen  men  who  were  brought  up  in  the  Quaker  sect,  quit  it. 
Why  ?  Not  because  Quakerism  is  not  good.  It  has  some  elements 
that  are  better,  I  think,  than  are  to  be  found  in  any  other  sect  on  earth. 
But  it  is  partial.  It  has  just  so  many  elements,  and  no  more.  And 
certain  minds  get  all  the  benefit  they  can  from  these  elements,  and 
then  bound  out  of  that  sect.  Well,  let  them  bound  out  of  it — only 
say  to  them,  "  Go  on  to  something  else.  If  you  do  not  get  enough 
here,  go  where  you  will  get  enough.  But  do  not  swing  wild  and 
loose."  This  drifting,  this  being  held  back  by  one  class  of  feelings, 
and  draAvn  out  by  another,  and  being  inconstant  to  both,  and  coming 
to  no  definite  and  fixed  result — that  is  mischievous. 

A  man  is  brought  up  in  the  Episcopal  Church ;  but  it  does  not 
meet  that  fervor,  that  love  of  unconstrained  action,  which  belongs  to 
his  nature;  and  he  feels  unsatisfied  and  impatient.  Let  him  go  out 
and  find  what  he  needs.  And  let  there  be  no  stigma  attached  to  his 
doing  it.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  good,  and  there  are  many  natures 
that  are  abundantly  satisfied  with  it.  It  comforts  and  cheers  them 
in  this  life,  and  gives  them  a  hope  of  salvation  in  the  life  to  come. 
It  is  a  chariot;  and  if  it  takes  them  to  heaven,  that  is  enough.  Speak 
well  of  the  bridge  that  carries  you  safely  over  the  stream.  Speak 
well  of  that  which  carries  you  over  the  morass  of  life  and  across  the 
river  of  death.  Some  people  are  satisfied  with  that  church  ;  and  why 
seek  to  discompose  them  ?  But  if  there  spring  up  among  them  one 
that  is  not  satisfied,  and  he  separates  himself  from  them,  and  they  say 
to  him,  "  You  are  abandoning  the  faith  of  your  fathers ;  you  are  an 
alien  ;  you  are  an  apostate,"  he  says,  "  I  can  not  stay  here,  and  I  am 
not  going  to  take  sides  with  enemies,"  and  he  does  not  go  anywhere, 
but  settles  into  a  discontented  middle  ground.  Nothing  holds  him 
steadfast,  and  so  he  drifts  ;  and,  drifting,  he  is  in  imminent  danger. 

How  blessed  will  be  that  day  when  a  man  shall  say,  without  fear 
of  ridicule  or  censure,  "  I  feed  sometimes  on  those  elements  that  are 
better  expounded  in  this  church  than  anywhere  else,  and  sometimes 
on  those  elements  that  are  better  set  forth  in  that  church  than  any- 
where else  " ! 

We  have  liberty  everywhere  but  in  churches.  The  very  places 
where  Christ  should  be  set  forth  more  gloriously  than  anywhere  else 
are  the  very  places  where  my  liberty  is  least  recognized — my  liberty 
of  thinking ;  my  liberty  of  affiliations ;  my  liberty  of  helping  myself 
at  other  tables  than  my  own.  But  I  declare  the  liberty  of  the  sons 
of  God  in  all  the  earth.  For  if  I  am  free  in  the  New  Jerusalem,  I 
ought  to  -be  in  the  old,  certainly.     And  I  have  a  right  to  be  edified  in 


SOUL-DBIFTINQ.  337 

the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  It  must  be  a  poor  one  in  which  I  can 
not  get  something  that  is  good. 

When  I  was  in  England,  I  attended  the  Episcopal  Church  more 
than  any  other  ;  and  siuce  I  came  back,  person^  knowing  that  fact 
have  patted  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  said,  "  You  must  be  living  con- 
trary to  your  convictions;  otherwise,  you  would  be  an  Episcopalian." 
They  can  not  begin  to  understand  the  largeness  of  the  place  that  I 
stand  in.  I  own  the  Episcopal  Church.  It  is  mine.  And  I  own  the 
Presbyterian  Church.  There  is  not  a  good  thing  in  it  that  I  do  not 
own.  And  I  own  the  Methodist  Church  ;  and  I  will  go  to  that  church 
when  I  have  a  mind  to.  I  own  the  Baptist  Church.  I  own  the  Luth- 
eran Church.  I  own  the  Unitarian  and  Universalist  churches,  all 
of  them,  if  they  have  good  ministers  in  them.  I  own  the  Sweden- 
borgian  Church.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fullness  thereof;" 
and  I  am  the  Lord's,  and  the  Lord  is  mine.  I  am  his  son  and  heir. 
And  any  thing  that  Christ  loves  I  will  love ;  any  thing  that  he  uses 
I  will  use  ;  and  those  that  he  sits  down  among  I  Avill  sit  down 
among  too.  And  I  am  not  false  to  my  ground  here,  because  I  have 
large  sympathy  with  Christians  everywhere.  And  I  do  not  regard 
them  as  better  than  I  am,  though  they  have  much  that  I  respect  and 
esteem.  I  say  that  they  are  all  imperfect  and  all  partial.  And,  as 
Christ  looks  upon  them,  it  takes  them  all  to  represent  the  one  grand 
and  glorious  church — and  all  of  them  together  do  not  suffice  to  do  it. 

There  are  many  who  think  that  these  views  are  themselves  very 
unsettling — as  if,  by  expressing  these  views,  I  taught  that  truth  was 
of  no  importance  ;  that  it  was  nothing  fixed  ;  that  it  was  just  what 
this  man,  and  that  man,  and  the  other  man  thought.  If  that  was  so, 
I  should  be  amenable  to  the  charge  of  inconsistency ;  but  it  is  not  so. 

Is  it  true,  because  three  painters  have  different  degrees  of  sensi- 
bility to  the  qualities  of  form,  and  color,  and  combination,  that  they 
have  no  reality  in  them  ?  I  go  to  one  man,  and  he  sees  color  in 
painting.  That  is  the  predominant  element  in  his  pictures.  He  has 
something  of  form,  and  something  of  the  gift  of  combination,  or 
grouping  ;  but  color  is  the  thing  in  which  he  excels.  I  go  to  another 
man,  and  he  is  hard  and  dry  in  color ;  but  he  is  wonderful  in  delinea- 
tion. His  pictures  abound  in  it.  But  thei-e  are  only  a  few  figures 
in  them.  He  is  like  jVIeissonnier,  who  paints,  and« introduces  but  one 
or  two  or  three  figures  at  a  time.  He  has  no  sense  of  fullness  and 
largeness  in  this  respect.  I  go  to  another  man,  and  he  has  not  much 
sense  of  color,  and  not  much  sense  of  form ;  but  he  is  fond  of  har- 
monious grouping,  and  his  pictures  are  crowded  full  of  figures. 
There  is  an  abundance  of  life  in  his  paintings.  That  is  what  he  feels 
for  in  himself  and  in  nature.  I  like  all  these  clieracteristics.  I  see 
that  there  is  an  element  of  truth  in  combination,  in  foi'm,  and  in 


338  so  UL-DBIFTING. 

color ;  and  either  one  of  these  men  would  be  a  greater  painter  if  he 
put  them  all  in  each  one  of  his  pictures.  And  no  man  would  say 
that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  truth  of  form,  or  color,  or  combi- 
nation. You  would  not  make  any  such  statement  respectino-  the 
art.  And  I  say  that,  as  there  are  these  elements  of  truth  in  art,  so 
there  are  elements  of  truth  in  theology.  And  I  recognize  this  fact. 
But  I  do  not  acknowledge  that  the  whole  of  truth,  the  full  form  of 
truth,  is  in  this  sect  or  that  sect. 

We  are  perpetually  wiser  in  the  lower  range  of  our  intellect  than 
in  the  higher.  We  are  perpetually  dealing  Avith  our  children  just  as 
I  say  we  ought  to  deal  with  church-members.  We  are  perpetually 
dealing  with  schools  as  I  say  we  ought  to  deal  with  grown-up  men. 
The  teacher  says,  "  I  have  to  govern  this  child  and  that  one  very 
differently."  "  What !"  it  is  said  to  her,  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that 
the  truth  is  not  always  the  same  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the 
truth  is  one  thing  to  this  child,  arid  something  different  to  that 
child  ?"  "No,"  says  the  teacher,  "but  it  would  not  answer  to  treat 
this  sensitive,  shrinking  child  in  the  same  way  that  a  forward,  pert, 
uproarious  child  needs  to  be  treated."  You  have  to  consider  a 
child's  nature  before  you  can  properly  govern  him.  But  that  has 
not  been  the  way  of  the  world.  The  world  has  had  a  kind  of  cider- 
mill  government.  In  making  cider,  men  take  all  the  apples  they  have 
for  the  purpose,  no  matter  how  many  different  kinds  there  may  be, 
and  put  them  into  the  one  mill,  and  squeeze  out  the  one  juice,  and 
call  that  cider.  That  does  very  well  for  apples ;  but  it  does  very 
poorly  for  a  school.  The  putting  children  into  one  great  system, 
and  grinding  them  all  up,  and  attempting  to  squeeze  out  from  them 
the  same  result,  in  the  same  way,  is  preposterous.  And  it  is  still 
more  preposterous  to  attempt  to  bring  all  elements  together,  and 
make  them  one,  in  the  realm  of  theology.  Human  nature  must  be 
changed  before  this  can  be  done.  And  when  God  changes  men,  so 
that  they  shall  all  be  alike,  as  candles  are,  that  are  all  just  so  straight, 
and  just  so  long,  and  just  so  large,  and  just  so  heavy,  Avith  just  such 
a  wick,  then  these  systems  can  be  adopted  and  successfully  carried 
out ;  but  not  until  then.  We  must  accept  the  doctrine  of  relative 
truth,  and  administer  accordingly.  We  must  let  men  have  liberty 
in  this  respect.  We  must  not  insist  upon  their  holding  views  that 
have  in  them  just  sd  much  of  this,  that,  or  the  other  element.  We 
must  recognize  the  fact  that  there  are  such  things  as  component 
truths,  and  allow  men  to  mix  the  various  elements  of  truth.  More 
ignorance,  more  persecution,  and,  as  a  consequence,  more  drifting, 
have  resulted  from  intolerance  in  this  direction,  than  from  almost  any 
other  cause  that  can  be  mentioned. 

I  have  no  doubt  tliat  there  are  many  people  who  say,  when  they 


80UL-DBIFTING.  339 

hear  men  talk  in  this  way,  "  There  !  he  has  come  over  to  our  church 
exactly.  That  is  what  our  minister  has  been  preaching  ever  so  long. 
I  knew  that  he  was  on  our  side."  Now,  I  do  not  want  you  to  tell 
it;  but  I  am  on  your  side!  Others,  belonging,  to  another  church, 
^say,  "  Why,  he  holds  those  very  fundamental  truths  for  which  we 
have  contended  so  long.  He  has  unconsciously  stepped  into  our 
church."  Well,  without  any  publicity,  I  have!  I  belong  there. 
Others,  belonging  to  another  of  the  churches,  say,  "  The  more  intel- 
ligent of  our  ministers  have  always  taken  the  view  which  he  now 
takes.  He  is  of  our  fellowship.  He  belongs  to  us."  Yes,  I  belong 
to  you.  I  belong  to  all  the  churches.  How  is  that  ?  Just  in  the 
same  way  that  I  belong  to  the  city  of  New-York,  though  I  live  in 
Brooklyn.  I  belong  to  Maine,  and  New-Hampshire,  and  Vermont, 
and  Massachusetts,  and  Rhode  Island,  and  Connecticut,  and  New- 
York,  and  Ohio,  and  Indiana — dear  old  soul — and  Michigan,  and 
Wisconsin,  and  Iowa,  and  Illinois,  and  Missouri,  and  Arkansas,  and 
Louisiana,  and  Mississippi,  and  Alabama,  and  Georgia,  and  Florida, 
and  South-Carolina,  and  North-Carolina,  and  Virginia,  and  Maryland, 
and  Delaware,  and  Pennsylvania,  and — New-Jersey  !  I  belong  to  all 
the  States.  And  is  thei'e  any  inconsistency  in  that  ?  Does  any  man  say 
that  there  is  duplicity  in  it  ?  Does  any  man  say  that  there  is  hair- 
splitting in  it?  Does  any  man  sa.y  that  it  is  mystic  or  incomprehen- 
sible ?  In  civil  affairs,  it  is  easily  understood.  And  why  should  you 
not  bring  common  sense  into  religion,  at  last  ?  Why  should  not  men 
do  in  church-matters  what  ages  have  shown  to  be  safe  and  proper  in 
family  matters  ?  Why  should  we  not  do  in  the  economy  of  ch  arches 
what  we  do  in  worldly  matters,  and  what  has  been  proved  over  and 
over  again  to  be  wise  ? 

I  had  designed  to  show  how  ideality,  and  how  various  forces  and 
impulses  developed  by  modern  refinement  and  civilization,  tend  to 
unsettle  men,  and  produce  discontent  and  soul-drifting;  but  I  must 
leave  it  until  another  time. 

In  closing,  let  me  say,  first,  that  because  God  can  not  be  seen, 
being  a  Spirit,  Jesus  Christ  presents  to  the  soul  the  best  conception 
of  God  which  is  possible  in  this  mortal  state.  He  is  to  stand  to  us  in 
the  place  of  God  ;  and  he  is  God.  Although  we  think  of  him  as 
human,  and  although  that  which  is  human  is  not  supposed  to  be 
divine,  yet  he  presents  to  our  mind  a  better,  wider,  deeper,  and 
more  correct  theory  and  conception  of  what  God  is,  than  can  be 
derived  from  nature,  or  philosophy,  or  any  of  the  analogies  of  human 
life  or  human  experience.  Therefore,  Christ  is  to  be  the  chief  among 
ten  tliousand,  and  the  one  altogether  lovely,  to  us.  And  he  being 
chief,  there  is  to  be  developed  for  him,  as  one  of  the  ends  of  life,  that 
enthusiastic  fealty  and  adhesion  which  exists  among  soldiers  in  armies 


340  SOUL-DRIFTING. 

for  their  generals.  I  hold  it  to  be  one  of  the  fundamental  elements, 
one  of  the  anclior-principles  of  religion,  that  the  soul  shall  have  taken 
hold  of  God  in  such  a  sense  that  it  has  for  him  enthusiasm,  and  love 
and  devotion.  That  will  hold  a  man  in  any  aberrations  of  the  under- 
standing ;  in  any  mutations  of  the  intellect ;  in  any  diversities  of 
ideality  ;  in  any  poetic  state  of  mind.  All  the  safety  a  man  can  have, 
in  emergencies  like  these,  is  in  his  having  found  out,  and  taken  hold 
of,  a  conception  of  God  which  shall  be  to  him  what  an  anchor  is  to  a 
ship. 

You  may  take  your, own  way  to  get  at  it;  you  may  modify  your 
views,  if  you  please  ;  but  once  let  a  man  call  in  God  in  such  a  way 
that  he  can  say,  sincerely,  though  he  sometimes  says  it  in  a  whisper, 
and  sometimes  in  an  exulting  voice,  aloud,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven 
but  thee  ?  There  is  none  on  earth  that  I  desire  in  comparison  with 
thee,"  and  nothing  can  harm  him.  When  a  man  can  say  that,  he  will 
be  held  steadfast.  That  is  the  anchor  that  enters  into  that  within  the 
vail^  and  it  will  keep  a  man's  soul  from  drifting.  But  if  you  have 
every  thing  else  in  the  world  without  that,  you  can  not  have  stead- 
fastness. No  church  can  prop  you  uj),  no  institution  can  hold  you,  no 
ordinance  can  save  you,  in  the  day  of  the  swelling  tide.  Nothing 
can  go  with  a  man  into  sorrow,  into  adversity,  into  bereavement, 
into  the  breaking  down  of  his  ambitions  and  j^rides  and  vanities ; 
nothing  can  go  with  him  into  bodily  sufferings ;  nothing  can  go  with 
him  when  he  comes  to  the  dregs  of  life,  when  vitality  runs  low,  and 
the  eye  and  the  ear  and  the  hand  fail,  and  he  trembles,  and  death  is 
not  far  before  him — but  faith  in  God.  If  you  are  traveling  toward 
God,  and  your  soul  seeks  him,  and  you  trust  in  him,  then  these  things 
will  not  move  you ;  and  you  can  say,  with  the  Apostle,  "  I  have 
fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith  ; 
henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which 
the  Lord,. the  righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me."  If  you  have  Christ, 
you  can  go  through  any  thing,,  and  bear  any  thing,  and  go  safely, 
too ;  but  if  you  have  no  Christ,  nothing  that  electrifies  the  soul  by 
faith  and  love,  and  nothing  that  is  more  to  you  than  all  other 
things ;  if  you  only  have  your  priest,  your  church,  your  ordinances, 
and  your  doctrines,  your  power  to  use  them  depends  upon  conditions 
that  are  themselves  failing  in  the  wreck  of  life ;  and  they  Avill  not 
stand  you  in  stead.  No  man  is  so  armed  as  the  man  who  has  this 
single  element  of  faith  :  Jesus  Christy  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  of  whom 
I  am  chief- — he  is  my  hope.  Why  is  he  my  hope  ?  He  loves  me. 
And  suppose  he  does  love  me,  what  good  does  that  do  ?  What  good 
does  it  do  when  the  sun  loves  the  earth?  Who  can  count  the  myriad 
products  that  come  from  the  simple  loving  of  the  earth  by  the  sun  ? 


SOUL-DBIFTING.  341 

And  who  can  tell  what  is  the  millennial  glory  of  the  soul  when  Christ 
shines  with  streaming  love  into  it  ? 

Here  is  the  anchor.  This  is  what  the  apostle  was  speaking  of. 
This  is  the  hope  of  immortality  through  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  "  as  an 
anchor  to  the  soul,  sure  and  steadfast,  and  which  enters  into  that 
within  the  vail  " — into  the  very  holy  of  holies. 

With  this  central  and  controlling  power  established,  any  soul  may 
safely  swing  in  any  circuits  it  pleases,  within  due  measure.  Once  let 
a  ship  anchor  out  in  the  bay,  and  though  it  may  let  out  many  fathoms 
of  cable,  and  though  it  may,  in  swinging,  become  tangled  with  other 
craft,  if  the  anchor  has  a  good  hold,  and  the  cable  is  strong,  the  ship 
is  safe. 

Once  let  a  man's  soul  get  anchored  upon  God,  and  he  may  swing 
round  iu  wide  circuits  of  speculation  and  doubt,  and  he  will  not  be 
materially  hurt.  He  has  an  anchor  that  brings  hira  up  in  due  time. 
But  a  man  that  has  no  faith,  a  man  that  is  without  God,  a  man  that 
is  destitute  of  an  anchor,  and  that  drifts  a  wanderer  in  God's  uni- 
verse— woe  be  to  him !  How  heljjless  is  a  man  that  has  no  faith  in 
himself,  and  not  much  trust'  in  men,  and  no  definite  belief,  and  no 
God,, and  no  hope  ! 

Let  every  man,  then,  search  out  his  soul's  vital  centre.  Not  here 
do  you  live,  except  in  body.  Stop  the  pulsations  of  the  heart,  and 
the  body  will  die.  Here,  in  your  own  bosom,  is  the  heart  of  the 
body  ;  but  the  heart  of  the  soul  throbs  in  the  bosom  of  God.  There 
is  where  the  soul  begins  to  live.  From  thence  it  derives  all  its  sus- 
tenance and  supply.  The  heart  of  God  includes  your  heart,  and  you 
and  he  are  one.  You  have  that  which  is  an  insurance  agamst  peril  and 
against  death,  and  a  security  for  salvation  and  life  forever  and  forever. 

Go  not  away,  then,  to-day,  I  beseech  of  you,  to  think  of  the  things 
that  I  have  scattered  ;  go  not  away  to  think  of  the  laxities,  if  you 
please  to  call  them  such,  which  have  been  enunciated  ;  go  not  away 
to  think  of  how  old  and  settled  opinions  have  been  meddled  with  ; 
go  not  away  to  think  of  the  various  discriminations  which  I  have 
made  in  seeking  to  give  enlai'gement  and  liberty  to  imperiled  souls — 
go  away  and  think  of  this,  rather :  "  God  loved  me,  and  so  loved 
me  that  he  gave  his  Son  to  die  for  me.  Through  Christ,  and  his  suf- 
ferings and  death,  a  new  and  living  way  is  opened,  whereby  I  can  be- 
come a  son  of  God ;  and  to  me  is  given  power  to  become  a  son  of 
God."  Go  and  say,  in  the  simplicity  of  a  child's  love,  "Lord,  I  love 
thee  better  than  all ;  and  I  will  love  thee.  Guard  and  love  thou  me 
unto  the  end."  And  then  rejoice.  The  earth  shall  perish  ;  the  elements 
shall  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  lieavens  shall  be  rolled  together  as 
a  scroll ;  but  you  shall  not  be  hurt.  And  forever  and  forever,  so  long 
as  God  lives,  you  shall  live  with  him,  and  be  his  sons  iu  glory. 


342  ■  SOUL-DBIFTING. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMO^\ 

O  THOU  tliat  dwellest  in  the  heaven,  and  whose  heart  is  in  the  earth ;  thou 
that  wert  once  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief,  bnt  now  art  ascended 
on  high,  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  reach  forth  to  us  this  morning  that  sovereign 
and  reviving  joy  which  thou  hast  and  dost  impart,  and  which  all  thine  may  have 
if  they  are  united  by  faith  to  thee.  Care,  and  labor,  and  sickness,  and  anxieties, 
and  disappointments,  and  the  whole  roamd  and  turmoil  of  earthly  experience 
overshadow  us.  As  birds  in  deep  forests  forget  to  sing  when  the  morning  is 
coming,,  not  knowing  in  the  twiUght  that  the  whole  air  above  the  forest  is  full 
of  daylight ;  so  we  are  silent  and  voiceless,  though  thy  glory  flames  above. 
Help  us  to  fly  into  that  upper  air  where  all  the  beauty  of  thy  presence  is,  where 
thou  art,  and  where  we  shall  be  vmdisturbed  by  those  sluggish  thoughts  that 
hold  us  down,  those  envious  and  corrupt  thoughts  which  mar  the  purity  of  the 
soul.  Deliver  us  from  the  power  which  holds  us  to  the  earth  and  makes  us 
earthy.  Give  us  more  of  the  vital  power  of  divine  inspiration  in  those  elements 
which  unite  us  together  and  make  us  the  heirs  of  immortality. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  !  that  thou  wilt  this  morning  draw  near  to  every 
one  of  us.  We  hate  our  hatreds  ;  we  hate  our  prejudices  ;  we  hate  our  selfish- 
ness ;  we  hate  all  those  corrupt  ways,  and  all  those  compliances  with  the  world's 
corrupt  ways,  which  our  weakness  too  often  le.ads  us  to.  We  have,  to-day,  in 
thy  presence,  such  a  thought  of  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus,  that  we  look  upon  our 
real  and  worldly  selves  with  shame,  and  can  scarcely  believe  that  men  who  are 
competent  to  form  such  ideas  of  themselves — ideas  so  high  and  Christ-like — do 
walk  in  a  way  so  burdened  ;  in  a  way  so  full  of  imperfection  and  sin  and  unlove- 
liness.  When  we  fain  would  follow  thee,  who  dost  breathe  peace  and  give  forth 
joy,  how  often  do  we  find  ourselves  breathing  forth  anger,  and  seeking  cruelly  to 
hurt !  Thou  that  didst  love  thine  enemies,  are  we  thy  followers,  who 
hate  our  fellow-men  with  a  bitter  hatred  ?  Thou  didst  forgive  even  those  that 
were  slaughtering  thee  ;  and  can  not  we  forgive  those  who  have  reached  but  a 
little  way  to  disturb  our  worldly  peace  and  outward  prosperity  and  interest  ? 
How  shall  we  call  ourselves  thine,  if  we  can  not  forgive  as  we  are  forgiven? 
How  are  we  the  children  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  if  our  hearts  are  fountains  of 
bitterness,  and  are  not  fountains  of  love,  with  all  its  sweet  and  blessed  fruit  ? 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  !  that  we  may  be  changed,  and  be  no  longer 
carnal,  nor  follow  the  law  of  the  beasts  that  rend  and  ravage.  Grant  that  we 
may  be  born  into  thee,  and  that  we  may  have  that  higher  beneficence  which 
becomes  the  sons  of  God.  Teach  us  that  gentleness,  that  deep  peacefulness, 
which  they  have  whose  souls  are  staid  upon  thee.  From  all  the  fluctuations  of 
our  passions  ;  from  the  disturbance  of  pride  ;  from  hungerings  after  the  fantastic 
follies  of  vanity,  deliver  us.  Grant  unto  us  that  subtle  fidelity,  that  fealty  to  thy 
name,  that  hearty  and  thorough  love  of  thee,  that  child-like  docility,  that  leaning 
and  yearning  on  thy  bosom,  which  shall  make  us  indeed  thine  own  children. 
And  so  may  we  always,  either  be  at  home,  or  within  easy  reach  of  it,  when  we 
are  pursued.  To  the  bosom  of  our  God  may  we  come — when  we  are  defiled,  for 
cleansing ;  when  we  are  lumgry,  for  fcfod ;  when  we  are  weary,  for  rest ;  when 
we  are  alone,  for  company  ;  when  we  are  dull,  for  inspiration  ;  when  we  are 
lifted  up,  for  heavenly  and  disinterested  joy.  Be  all  to  us.  Whatever  all  the 
scattered  elements  in  nature  supply,  supply  thou  yet  more  abundantly.  Teach 
us  by  our  own  experience  how  much  more  thou  art  than  thy  work  is  ;  how  much 
'more  thy  power  is,  back  of  law  and  nature,  than  all  the  power  which  thou  hast 


80  UL-BRIFTING.  343 

infused  iato  tlie  laws  of  nature.  May  we  behold  the  glory  of  the  sovereign  God 
which  is  greater  than  his  greatest  work.  There  may  our  life  be.  And  around 
this  blissful  centre  may  we  move  harmonious  to  the  end.  ' 

Yet  liow  many  there  are  that  are  wealc  ;  how  many  tliere  are  tliat  are  feeble  of 
wing  ;  how  many  there  are  that  are  obscure  and  dim  of  sight,  and  can  nut  see  thee, 
nor  these  things !  Look  with  compassion  on  them.  Lift  them  up,  we  beseech 
of  thee,  by  thy  strength.  And  if  they  can  not  go  themselves,  bear  them  in  thine 
own  arm-.  Comfort  and  strengthen  them  by  a  holy  faith  in  Christ  Jesus.  And 
grant  tliat  this  may  be  the  ceutr.j  of  all  their  lives.  May  Chiist  be  ours,  living 
or  dying ;  and,  living  or  dying,  may  we  be  Christ's.  May  we  rejoice  in  his 
s;'rvice.  May  we  be  inspired  by  his  presence.  May  our  love  be  taught,  and 
enriched,  and  restrained,  by  the  presence  and  love  of  Christ  Jesus.  And  so  may 
all  our  thoughts  do  obeisance  to  thee,  and  all  our  feelings,  and  every  thing  that 
is  within  us,  that  we  may  love  thee  with  all  our  heart,  and  mind,  and  soul,  and 
strength. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  whom  we  love  ;  all  that  are  dis- 
persed from  us  ;  our  companions  in  toil  and  travail ;  the  members  of  our  families  ; 
the  brethren  of  the  church  ;  all  who  are  wout  to  be  here,  but  are  in  thy  provi- 
dence separated  from  us.  To-day  may  the  blessing  of  Almighty  God  go  with 
them  in  their  several  ways,  and  abide  with  them.  We  pray  that  those  who 
remain  and  labor  in  their  appropriate  spheres  may  be  strengthened  to  all  iidelity 
and  to  all  rejoicing  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  those  who  are  providentially  w  th  us  to-day  ; 
all  that  are  strangers  in  our  midst ;  all  whose  hearts  yearn  for  the  far  oflf  home, 
and  for  the  friends  dearer  now  that  they  are  separated  from  them.  Grant  that 
they  may  feel,  here,  to-day,  that  the  L:)rd  hears  and  answers  their  prayers,  in 
mercy,  for  those  who  are  near  to  them.     Save  them  from  ill  tidings  of  disaster. 

And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  who  are  on  the  sea,  and  all  who  are  wan- 
derers in  distant  lands,  may,  to-day,  by  the  power  of  that  blessed  faith  which  they 
have  in  Christ,  be  brought  near  to  thee,  and  to  us  who  are  near  thee. 

And  we  pray  that  thy  grace  may  this  day  abound  in  all  thy  churches. 
Strengthen  thy  servants  to  preach.  Build  up  thy  churches  everywhere  in  faith 
and  in  practice.  May  all  that  name  the  name  of  Christ  appear  beautiful  to  men 
by  their  sweetness  and  sincerity  and  godliness. 

And  we  pray  that  thy  kingdom  may  be  advanced  among  the  ignorant.  May 
knowledge  fly  to  and  fro.  May  all  parts  of  this  earth  receive  the  emancipating 
tidings  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ.  May  manhood  advance  everywhere, 
and  the  glory  of  the  earth  at  last  be  the  glory  of  the  Lord  God,  that  shall  come 
to  dwell  a  thousand  years  upon  the  earth. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise.  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.     Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE    SERM-OIf. 

Grant  thy  blessins:  to  rest,  we  beseech  of  thee,  upon  the  word  spoken  this 
morning.  Grant  that  it  may  be  in  season  to  rescue  some  that  are  in  peril  ;  and 
to  hold  back,  from  hazardous  and  disputatious  folly,  others.  Grant  that  we  may 
all  seek,  not  so  much  to  find  new  ways,  and  to  build  up  shining  theories,  as  to 
hold  the  soul  steadfastly  to  honor,  and  to  truth,  and  to  love,  by  holding  it  stead- 


34:4:  SO  UL-DRIFTIXG. 

fastly  to  God.  May  the  frait  of  the  Spirit  abound  in  us  ;  and  may  our  manhood 
made  beautiful  and  fruitful  by  the  working  of  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  be  more  to  us  than  the  pride  of  system,  than  the  pride  of  philosophy,  or 
than  the  pride  of  reason.  Grant  that  thus  we  may  grow  in  grace  and  in  the 
knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  and  unto  a  perfect  manhood  in 
Christ  Jesus. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  forever  and  forever.     Amen. 


XX. 

The  Hidden  Life, 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 


SUNDAY   MORNING,  JULY  25,  1869, 


'And  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God." — COL.  iii.  3. 


Evert  one  has  two  lives — the  outward  and  the  inward  ;  and 
although  they  are  seemingly  separate,  having  a  different  mode  of 
manifestation,  they  are  at  the  same  time  intimately  connected. 
Even  rude,  undeveloped  natures  have  that  which  they  hide  from 
men.  Much  goes  on  within  them  that  does  not  show  itself  out- 
wardly. Their  cunning  purposes,  their  selfish  greed,  their  lurid  and 
lustful  desires — if  not  shame,  then  self-interest  and  safety,  lead  them 
to  secrete  these  bad  elemental  forces  ;  and  so  the  lowest  natures  have 
a  hidden  life  of  badness.  A  great  many  men  are  bad  outwardly, 
who  are  a  great  deal  worse  inwardly. 

But  also  when  love  has  purified  the  soul ;  when  men  have  risen 
through  the  social  affections  far  above  these  vulgar  conditions,  they 
in  like  manner  have  secret  lives,  but  of  a  different  sort.  Men  re- 
volve ten  thousand  thoughts  Avhich  never  find  expression,  and  never 
can.  We  never  can  say  our  best  things.  "We  think  a  great  deal 
better  than  we  ever  speak.  Fancies  thick  as  stars  shine  in  the  vault 
of  souls  elected  to  poetry.  Our  tender  and  affectionate  natures  are 
like  nightingales,  and  will  not  sing  in  glare  of  day,  nor  without  cover 
and  retirement. 

Every  person  of  richness  of  soul  will  recognize  the  truth,  that 
the  dearest  part  of  his  life — that  which  seems  to  him  the  finest,  the 
noblest,  the  deepest — never  is  fully  and  fairly  exposed.  And  if  you 
think  a  moment,  you  are  conscious  that  all  those  subtlest  sentiments, 
those  rarest  feelings,  which,  when  they  manifest  themselves  in  you 
with  power,  give  you  some  sentiment  of  divinity,  are  the  strains  of 
the  soul  which  you  can  not  speak,  and  certainly  do  not.  Our  feel- 
ings toward  each  other,  the  feelings  that  pai'ents  have  toward  their 
children,  orb  up  and  swell  the  soul,  but  are  unutterable  ;  and 
sui-ely,  the  feelings  of  affection  Avhich  great  natures  have  toward 
each  other  never  find  expi'ession  in  words.  There  is  more  in  one 
look  that  the  eye  gives,  than  in  wliat  the  tongue  utters  in  a  lifetime. 

tiBSSON :  2  Cor.  iv.  18 ;  v.    Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) ;  132,  910,  906. 


o4:6  TEE  ElIXBEN  LIFE. 

There  are  elements  of  couscious  life  that  move  and  control  outward 
action,  which  lie  coiled  up  like  the  spring  of  a  watch,  in  a  chamber 
which  is  not  opened,  but  out  of  which  issues  a  power  that  carries  the 
whole  train. 

But  this  hidden  life  is  more  strikingly  illustrated  in  the  course  of 
all  refined  affections.  Of  all  feelings,  there  is  none  of  which  men 
need  be  so  little  ashamed  as  of  true  love,  and  none  which  so  much 
puts  on  all  the  appearances  of  shame.  For  love  is  born  behind 
blushing  defenses.  And  after  it  has  won  its  victories 'and  subdued 
to  itself  the  whole  of  life,  it  then  more  than  ever  has  in  it  the  neces- 
sity of  hiding  itself.  For  love,  like  the  blood  in  the  human  body, 
though  it  be  the.  cause  of  all  the  life  that  appears,  is  itself  hidden 
within  the  veins,  and  never  seen. 

When  the  apostle,  therefore,  speaks  of  the  Christian  life  as  a  hidden 
one,  it  is  neither  a  paradox  nor  a  mystery,  though  at  first  it  may  strike 
one  as  being  so.  Interpreted  by  the  analogy  of  the  soul's  best  habits, 
it  is  only  declaring  the  Christian's  hope  to  be  the  secret  and  spring  of 
all  the  rest  of  his  life.  That  which  is  the  strongest  in  him,  that 
which  is  the  truest  to  his  divine  nature,  that  which  he  considers  the 
best  part  of  him — in  short,  that  which  he  Avill  call  his  real  life,  is  hid- 
den.    "  Your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God." 

We  are  to  consider  that  our  Lord  addressed  himself  to  men's  love, 
and  that  he  still  addresses  himself  to  their  hearts.  He  offei'ed  and 
oflTers  all,  and  he  demands  all.  Though  calm,  our  Saviour  was  an 
intense  lover.  His  own  need,  everlastingly,  is  to  be  intensely  loved. 
~With  all  the  hearty  mind.,  soul,  and  st)'ength — that  is  the  heavenly 
love-formula.  A  passionate  love  to  Christ  was  practically  the  whole 
creed  of  the  primitive  church.  They  thought  less  than  we  do,  by 
far,  of  the  Bible  ;  for  then  only  the  Old  Testament  was  in  their  hands, 
and  the  New  was  not  written.  In  the  primitive  church,  there  had 
been  drawn  out  no  doctrines.  They  believed  the  supreme  fact  that 
Christ  came,  died  for  our  sins,  rose  again,  and  ascended  up  on  high. 
The  whole  of  their  belief  was  comprised  in  this  personal  fact.  It 
not  only  was  the  whole  creed  of  every  primitive  Christian,  but  it  is 
still  the  whole  creed  of  every  deeply  spiritual  Christian.  For  love 
such  as  the  spirit  of  God  inspires  is  both  detersive  and  curative.  It 
cleanses  the  soul  from  gross  feelings,  on  the  one  side.  It  creates  in 
it  all  the  fruits  which  common  men  seek  by  the  use  of  reason.  He 
who  knows  how  to  love  Christ  supremely,  finds  that  from  that  vivid, 
vitalizing  centre  spring  all  precautionary  and  all  formative  influences. 
So  that  every  truly  spiritual  Christian  learns  that,  however  much  he  may 
believe  of  historical  Christianity,  and  however  much  he  may  believe 
of  doctrinal  Christianity,  the  operative  power  in  his  soul  is  the  per- 
sonal love  which  he  enthusiastically  bears  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


THE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  847 

The  oiitwai-d  life  of  an  ordinary  Christian,  m  times  like  our 
own,  when  government  secures  order,  and  opportunity  for  all  good 
is  free  and  open  to  all,  can  not  be  much  distinguished  from  that  of 
the  best  moral  men,  either  in  liberty  or  in  morality.  You  can  not 
find  a  very  great  difference  between  the  outward  and  visible  life  of 
the  best  men  of  the  world,  and  that  of  ordinary  Christians.  For,  as  the 
idea  of  seclusion,  that  notion  of  past  ages,  passes  away  ;  as  a  larger 
and  better  idea  of  Christian  liberty  dawns,  and  is  carried  into  prac- 
tice, men  are  no  longer  distinguished  from  their  fellow-men  by  some 
outward  sign — by  the  clothes  they  wear ;  by  the  way  they  walk  ;  or 
by  external  observances.  If  there  are  no  other  differences  between 
men  than  these  physical  differences,  that  they  put  on,  then  these  them- 
selves have  no  justification.  If  a  man  is  not  different  from  his  neigh- 
bor in  any  way  that  he  can  show  by  his  life  and  conduct,  and  must 
needs  put  a  feather  in  his  hat  to  signify  that  he  \h  a  Christian,  he 
would  better  keep  the  feather  off.  It  is  said  that  there  must  be  a  dis- 
tinction between  Christians  and  the  world  ;  but  if  there  is  no  other 
distinction  than  that,  there  had  better  not  be  that.  If  there  is  to  be  a 
distinction,  it  should  be  in  this:  that  you  are  more  generous  ;  that 
you  are  more  just.  The  distinction  is  to  be  one  of  a  higher  purity, 
a  sweeter  love,  a  nobler  manhood  ;  and,  if  you  have  not  that,  you 
have  no  right  to  put  a  distinction  between  yourself  and  another 
man  on  the  ground  that  you  belong  to  a  church,  and  he  does  not. 
If  the  only  difference  between  you  and  him  is  that  you  keep 
Sunday  and  he  does  not — that  is,  that  he  writes  letters  and  you 
go  to  sleep! — it  is  of  no  account.  If  there  is  no- difference  between 
you  and  other  people  except  that  you  wear  drab,  and  they  wear 
blue  broadcloth,  or,  that  you  wear  plain  caps,  and  they  wear  flowej-s, 
or  vice  versa,  then  there  might  as  well  be  no  difference.  Any  &uch 
external  badges  of  distinction  are  Avorse  than  useless.  They  are  de- 
ceiving. They  are  mischievous.  There  ought  to  be  a  difference  be- 
tween men  of  the  world  and  Christian  men.  And  yet,  when  the 
training  of  Christian  families,  and  the  training  of  Clmstian  institu- 
tions has  so  affected  law  and  public  sentiment  that  men  by  outside 
active  experience  are  reared  up  externally  to  a  liigh  Christian  pro- 
priety and  morality,  then  ordinary  men  and  Christian  men  will  not 
have  any  marked  external  difference.  There  will  be  in  the  Cliristian 
man  and  the  ordinarily  high-toned  moral  citizen  the  same  virtues  in 
business,  the  same  honesty,  the  same  industry,  the  same  alacrity,  the 
same  kindliness,  the  same  truthfulness,  the  same  obedience  to  civic 
law.  There  will  be  no  material  difference  in  these  respects.  Certainly, 
there  will  be  no  discrimination  against  the  Christian  life  as  though 
it  were  a  less  free  or  a  less  liberal  life.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's, 
and  the  fullness  thereof."     And  whatever  any  man  on  earth  who  is 


348  TEE  HIDDEN  LIFE. 

not  a  Christian  has  a  right  to  do  innocently  and  jjurelj^  that,  for  a 
liigher  reason,  the  Christian  man  has  a  right  to  do,  because  he  stands 
nearer  to  God  than  any  body  else.  That  man  who  has  a  secret  life 
in  Christ  Jesus,  a  true  divine  life  in  his  soul,  has  a  liberty  that  no 
other  man  has.  There  is  no  pleasure  which  any  man  has  a  right  to, 
that  I,  because  I  am  a  Christian,  and  a  Christian  minister,  have  not 
a  better  right  to  tlian  the  man  who  is  not  a  Christian.  If  it  is  right 
for  you  to  laugh,  it  is  right  for  me  to  laugh,  because  I  stand  nearer 
to  the  source  of  sonship  than  you  do,  if  you  are  not  a  Christian.  If 
it  is  right  for  any  man  to  gain  honor,  or  to  gain  property,  it  is  right 
for  a  Christian  to  do  it.  If  it  is  right  for  any  body  to  make  his  house 
the  very  home  of  refinement,  and  art,  and  beauty,  and  set  up  a  tem- 
ple of  knowledge,  wherein  to  rear  domestic  virtue  and  fidelity,  it  is 
right  for  a  Christian  man  to  do  it.  Contrary  to  the  ascetic  notion, 
contrary  to  the  Klark  notions  of  a  distempered  age  striving  to  do 
right  and  not  knowing  how,  I  afiirm  that  there  is  no  man  on  earth 
that  has  a  right  to  so  wide  a  scope  of  occupation,  that  has  such 
a  right  to  days,  and  years,  and  jDOwers,  and  influences,  and  joys,  and 
ambitions,  as  a  Christian.  I  have  a  right  to  these  things  because 
I  am  God's  son,  and  he  owns  them,  and  I  am  joint-heir  with  Christ 
to  an  inheritance  in  them  all.  And  I  take  hold  of  my  own  property 
in  these  respects. 

A  Christian,  then,  has  a  right  to  all  innocent  pleasure,  to  all  in- 
dustry, to  all  generous  rivalry,  and  to  all  modest  ambition.  A  Chris- 
tian is  an  actor  in  the  world  that  now  is,  in  a  larger  and  nobler  way 
than  any  other  one.  can  be.  Looking  at  him  only  in  that  which  ap- 
pears, you  would  not  know  that  there  was  any  diiference  between 
him  and  an  ordinary  good  citizen.  The  difference,  however,  is  very 
great,  assuming  that  he  is  not  merely  a  professed  Christian,  but  a 
real  one.  The  difference  is  in  that  which  does  not  appear.  It  is  in 
that  which  lies  behind  conduct.  It  is  in  the  hidden  life.  It  is  in 
that  which  inspires  ambition,  restrains  it,  leavens  it,  guides  it.  The 
same  conduct  precisely  may  be  beauteous  as  the  rose,  or  may  be 
dark  as  soot.  Precisely  the  same  actions  carry  different  colors.  The 
animating  feeling  that  inspires  the  conduct,  or  the  act,  will  determine 
what  is  the  fragrance  and  the  color,  what  is  the  power  and  the  beavity, 
of  the  same  act  as  performed  by  two  actors.  The  ordinary  virtues 
of  thousands  of  men  are  quite  equal  to  those  of  Christian  men.  There 
are  many  men  who  are  as  honest  as  they  can  be ;  and  a  Christian  can 
be  no  honester — I  mean  in  outward  matters.  There  are  thousands 
of  men  who  never  indulge  their  appetites;  who  never  give  way  to 
their  passions  ;  and  a  Christian  can  do  no  more  than  that.  There  are 
very  many  men  who  extei-nally  are  full  as  moral  as  Christians,  and 
in  some  things  more  moral.     As  they  attempt  to  cultivate  but  two 


TEE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  349 

or  three  jjct  moralities,  we  should  expect  them  to  do. better  by  these 
than  a  Christian  who  undertakes  to  cultivate  a  hundred.  Therefore, 
when  it  is  said,  "  That  man,  who  is  not  a  Christian,  is  a  great  deal 
more  scrupulous  in  his  word  than  that  man,  who  is  a  Christian,"  it  is 
probably  true,  to  the  credit  of  the  man  that  keeps  his  word,  but  not 
to  the  discredit  of  the  other  man.     Let  me  illustrate  this. 

If  I  devote  myself  wholly  to  penmanship,  and  another  man  di- 
vides his  time  between  sword-practice,  and  equestrian  exercise,  and 
painting,  and  drawing,  and  sculpture,  and  architecture ;  if  he  un- 
dertakes to  know  and  do  well  something  of  the  whole  circle  of  ac- 
complishments, and  I  spend  the  whole  force  of  my  life  in  learning 
how  to  write  well,  at  least  I  ought  to  do  that  one  thing  better  than 
he.  I  am  so  poor  and  scrawny  in  other  respects,  where  shall  I  find 
credit,  if  this  one  thing  is  not  done  better  than  other  people  do  it  ? 

There  are  some  men  who  put  the  whole  force  of  their  life  in  attemjjt- 
ing  to  be  just  between  man  and  man.  That  is  the  whole  extent  of  their 
ambition.  Some  men  are  scrupulous  about  their  word  to  the  last  de- 
gree of  Pharisaism  :  but  in  the  cultivation  of  generosity ;  in  the  cul- 
tivation of  kind  feelings  ;  in  the  cultivation  of  refinements  and 
social  amenities  ;  in  building  up  societies  for  the  public  benefit ;  in 
making  laws  more  lovely  as  well  as  more  protective  ;  in  the  culture 
of  spiritual  elements  by  which  God  and  the  human  soul  are  brought 
near  together — there  they  do  nothing.  All  the  vast  outlying  de- 
partments of  manhood  are  abandoned  by  them,  and  left  to  become 
an  overgrown  wilderness.  There  ai"e  men  that  own  a  thousand  acres 
of  land — in  their  soul — and  have  but  a  quarter  of  an  acre  of  it  under 
cultivation.  They  make  a  garden  of  that,  and  all  the  rest  is  a  wil- 
derness. By  devoting  himself  entirely  to  that  quarter  of  an  acre,  a 
man  is  able  to  keep  it  in  excellent  condition ;  and  he  says,  comparing 
himself  with  his  neighbor,  "  I  am  better  than  that  man."  That  man. 
has  cleared  five  hundred  acres,  and  has  it  under  fence  and  cultivation. 
He  can  not  give  it  that  special  care  that  the  other  man  does  his 
quarter  of  an  acre  ;  but  which  would  you  pick  out,  the  man  that 
takes  care  of  five  hundred  acres  well,  or  the  man  that  expends  every 
thing  he  has  in  taking  care  of  a  quarter  of  an  acre  ? 

There  are  men  over  in  New-Yoi"k  who  think  they  are  a  great 
deal  better  than  Christians.  Why?  Because  there  is  one  sin 
gle  thing  on  which  they  have  spent  their  whole  life,  and  the  doing 
which  is  a  part  of  their  life.  In  that  they  do  see  that  they  are  a 
little  ahead  of  other  people ;  and  therefore  they  think  tliey  are  bet- 
ter than  any  body  else. 

Here  is  a  cutler.  Around  his  shop  you  shall  see  all  manner  of 
exquisite  implements.  There  are  whole  cases  of  surgical  tools,  shoe- 
makers' tools,  and  cabinet-makers'  tools.     Whatever  you  want  in  the 


350  THE    HIDDEN  LIFE. 

sliape  of  cuttiug-iiistruments,  j'oii  can  find  in  that  man's  shop.  See 
the  scissors  and  shears  and  knives,  of  all  patterns,  and  of  the  most 
beautiful  workmanship !  And  the  man  takes  a  just  pride  in  these 
things,  and  says,  "  Considering  how  many  I  have  to  look  after,  I  am 
proud  of  them."  But  a  man  comes  in,  and  says,  "  Oh !  that  is  very 
well,  but  I  have  made  a  pin !  Just  look  at.  that  pin  !  Take  a  mi- 
croscope and  examine  it.  You  have  not  among  all  your  tools  there 
a  thing  that  is  to  be  compared  with  that  pin  !"  He  spent,  he  says, 
five  years  in  making  that  pin  !  What  is  a  man  worth  that  spends  five 
years  in  making  a  pin,  when  it  is  nothing  but  a  pin  after  it  is  made  ? 

So  there  are  many  men  who  compare  themselves  with  Christians. 
You  shall  often  hear  a  man  that  is  not  a  professed  Christian  say  of 
one  that  is,  "  He  did  a  thing  that  I  should  disdain  to  do."  Perhaps 
it  is  a  thing  that  lies  just  along  that  line  where  you  have  spent 
your  life-force  in  developing  one  single  grace  and  morality,  while 
this  other  man  has  cultivated  ten  times  as  many  graces  and  morali- 
ties as  you  have.  He  does  not  carry  his  so  high  as  you  do  yours ; 
but  he  a  thousand  times  more  than  makes  up  what  he  lacks  in  one 
direction  by  the  breadth  of.  what  he  is  attempting  to  do  in  others. 

A  man  that  is  living  in  this  world  is  not  living  just  to  keejj 
this  law,  or  that.  Every  man  that  lives  in  this  world  is  a  builder. 
He  is  building  a  character  in  his  soul.  And  that  character  is  to  out- 
last the  globe  and  the  sun.  He  is  building  himself  for  the  eternal 
world.  And  it  will  not  do  for  a  man,  in  building  a  house,  to  spend 
all  his  time  on  one  brick  or  stone.  He  must  carry  up  every  part  of 
the  house,  or  he  is  not  a  good  builder. 

I  say,  then,  whether  you  regard  tlie  diversity  of  men's  liberty  in 
the  things  that  they  may  do ;  whether  you  consider  their  freedom, 
under  God's  natural  law,  in  taking  hold  of  every  proper  thing;  or 
whether  you  regard  the  mere  external  moralities  of  men,  there  seems 
to  be  no  very  great  distinction  between  the  best  specimens  of  secular 
men,  and  the  ordinary  specimens  of  Christian  men.  But  there  is  a 
difference.  That  difference  lies,  as  I  have  intimated,  in  the  animating 
centre  of  the  different  lives.  Take  two  men  who  are  substantially 
alike  to  the  outward  eye.  If  you  could  look  in  and  see  what  are  the 
powers  that  are  turning  the  machinery  of  the  soul,  you  would  see 
that  they  are  essonlially  different.  The  differences  are  such  as  are 
to  be  revealed  in  tlie  eternal  world.  I  will  illustrate  it  in  a  way  that 
you  can  not  misunderstand. 

Here  are  two  men  in  New- York  doing  business.  They  are  alike. 
They  stand  alike.  They  are  both  said  to  be  "A,  No.  1."  They  are 
both  spoken  of  as  tlirifty  men.  Both  of  them  are  making  money. 
They  are  making  it  by  enterprises  large  and  successful.  Both  of 
them  are  sagacious.     They  both  know  how  to  administer  what  they 


THE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  351 

make.  It  is  liarclei'  to  save  what  you  get,  you  know,  than  it  is  to  get 
it.  As,  frequently,  when  men  fish  with  several  hooks,  more  fish  bite 
than  they  know  how  to  land,  so  it  is  in  making  money.  Men  often 
make  more  money  than  they  know  how  to  keep.  But  these  men 
know  both  how  to  get  money,  and  how  to  keep  what  they  get,  and 
how  to  administer  it  wisely.  And  to  just  stand  at  the  head  of  Wall 
street  and  look  down  upon  them,  you  would  say  that  they  were  about 
the  same  men  ;  that  they  were  about  of  the  same  age — forty-five  ;  and 
that  one  was  about  as  good  as  the  other. 

But  are  they  the  same?  Let  us  look  and  see  what  they  are  made 
up  of.  Tlie  first  man  came  down  to  New-York  and  said,  "I  have 
one  sovereign  purpose.  By  the  help  of  the  Lord,  or  by  the  help  of— 
any  other  power,  I  am  determined  that  I  will  have  luoney.  I  am 
going  to  have,  money  at  all  hazards.  It  is  not  best  for  me  to  say  it 
out,  for  that  would  not  be  respectable  ;  but  I  love  money,  and  I  am 
going  to  have  it."  He  thinks  of  money  all  day,  and  he  dreams  of  it 
all  night.  He  thinks  and  dreams,  not  about  any  thing  that  he  is  going 
to  do  with  the  money,  but '  about  the  money  itself.  When  he  has 
made  his  five  thousand  dollars,  he  feels  that  this  is  only  yeast ;  and 
he  says,  "I  have  got  this;  and  now  it  shall  be  my  fault  if  I  do 
not  double  it  before  the  year  rolls  round  ;"  and  he  doubles  it. 
And  when  he  has  his  ten  thousand  dollai's,  he  says,  "  In  less  than 
six  months  I  will  double  that ;"  and  he  doubles  it.  And  so  he 
goes  on,  his  supreme  purpose  being  to  accumulate  money.  It  is 
money  that  occupies  his  thoughts  continually.  He  thinks  about  it  in 
the  morning  as  he  goes  to  his  business,  and  thinks  of  it  at  night 
when  he  returns  from  his  business.  With  him  it  is  money,  money^ 
MOisTEY  !  And  if  he  has  any  other  chance  thoughts,  they  are  such 
as  this  :  "I  wonder  why  God  did  not  make  the  days  thirty-six  hours 
long,  instead  of  twenty-four,  that  I  might  work  longer !"  He  has 
not  time  enough  to  make  all  the  money  he  wants.  So  by  the  time 
he  is  forty-five  years  of  age,  the  passion  for  money  has  grown  so 
strong  that  he  sees  gold  everywhere.  He  sees  gold  and  silver  in 
the  heavens — gold  by  day,  and  silver  by  night.  If  he  reads  the 
Bible,  he  likes  to  read  of  that  city  which  is  paved  with  gold.  All 
his  ideas  run  on  gold.  He  is  a  supreme  miser.  He  knows  all  of 
that  side  of  morality  which  will  enable  him  to  get  gold  and  keep  it ; 
and  that  is  the  whole  of  what  he  does  know. 

The  other  man,  who  outwardly  seems  just  like  him,  is  a  man  that 
was  himself  poor.  And,  loving  a  most  worthy  mate,  and  marrying 
early,  out  of  jjoverty ;  and  being  blessed,  as  love  should  always  be 
blessed,  with  affluence — at  least  of  children — the  family  is  large; 
and  he  says,  "lean  not,  now  tliat  I  see  what  happiness  may  be  given 
through  the  outward  power  of  wealth,  be  content  without  it.      This 


852  THE  HIDDEN  LIFE. 

woman  shall  not  be  a  drudge,  if  it  is  in  my  power  to  prevent  it.  And 
these  children — I  will  not  bring  them  up  as  if  they  were  moles  under 
the  turf.  They  shall  have  whatever  intelligence,  refinement,  and 
moral  excellence  can  give  them."  And,  going  to  his  store  in  the 
morning,  after  kissing  his  wife,  and  kissing  his  children,  every  one, 
though  the}'^  have  some  of  them  now  come  to  be  bearded,  he  thinks, 
"It  is  not  I.  There  are  ten  mouths  as  well  as  my  own."  And 
every  time  he  puts  out  his  hand  and  gets  a  dollar,  that  dollar  strikes 
the  nerve  that  runs  back  to  the  mother  of  his  children,  and  to  each 
one  of  the  children.  And  there  is  not  a  bargain  that  brings  in 
an  unexpected  thousand  dollars,  that  he  does  not  say,  "  Good  for 
them !"  And  all  the  while,  night  and  day,  he  is  thinking  or  dream- 
ing of  them.  And  when  there  comes  one  of  those  sudden  tornadoes — 
for  you  know  that,  in  the  natural  climate,  tornadoes  sweep  over  the 
equator;  and  in  commerce  the  equator  runs  right  through  New- 
York  City,  and  through  the  Gold-Room  (I  stood  there  on  the  equator, 
yesterday  ! ) — when  there  comes  one  of  those  sudden  tornadoes,  and 
the  clouds  are  black,  and  the  winds  roar,  and  ships  and  houses  are  be- 
ing upset  as  in  a  moment,  and  all  the  man's  possessions  are,  as  it  were, 
at  the  mercy  of  the  raging  elements,  what  are  his  thoughts,  as  he 
goes  back  home  with  a  heavy  heart  ?  "  Why,"  he  says,  "  if  I  were  a 
young  man,  and  alone,  I  would  not  turn  my  hand  over  to  save  any 
thing.  I  do  not  care  for  myself.  But  oh  !  I  can  not  bear  to  see  my 
wife  and  children  reduced  to  want."  And  he  goes  to  his  room,  and 
says,  "Great  God!  great  God!  help  me!"  And  what  is  the 
anguish  and  agony  of  his  prayer,  but  the  love  which  he  bears  to  those 
that  are  more  to  him  than  life,  or  any  thing  else? 

Here  are  these  two  men,  making  money.  They  are  both  forty- 
five  years  of  age,  and  they  seem  alike.  There  is  no  apparent  difier- 
ence  between  them.  They  are  both  moral  and  respectable,  and  are 
both  received  into  society.  But  one  has  been  acting,  all  his  life  long, 
from  avarice,  and  the  other  from  love.  And  does  not  the  hidden  life 
make  any  difference  between  the  one  and  the  other  ? 

I  have  said  that  there  is  no  visible  distinction  between  the  best 
secular  man  and  the  ordinary  Christian  man;  but  when  you  go  to 
the  inside,  and  look  at  the  motives  that  are  animating  the  one  and 
the  other,  while  making  the  same  pilgrimage,  and  striving  for  the 
same  ends,  is  there  not  a  great  difference  between  them  ?  Is  not  one 
stimulated  by  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  hope  of  immortality,  while 
the  other  is  actuated  by  mere  worldly  motives  of  morality? 

Two  persons  may  be  equal  in  outward  fidelity  to  duty,  and  yet 
different  in  their  interior  lives.  Though  their  external  circumstances 
are  the  same,  and  they  appear  to  be  passing  through  about  the  same 
experience,  if  you  go  down  to  the  bottom  of  their  inward  nature, 


THE  ELD  DEN  LIFE.  353 

though  you  may  respect  them  both,  you  can  not  help  seeing  that 
they  are  different,  and  that  it  is  the  hidden  life  that  determines, 
after  all. 

In  this  great  whirligig  of  a  world,  there  is  nothing  stranger  than 
the  mating  and  mismating  of  men  and  women.  There  is  no  question 
that  is  more  insoluble,  and  more  often  asked,  than  this,  "  What  on 
earth  ever  tempted  that  woman  to  marry  that  man  ?"  You  can  not 
answer  it,  I  can  not,  and  she  can  not..  There  is  but  one  other  question 
like  it,  and  that  is,  "  What  on  earth  tempted  that  man  to  marry 
such  a  woman  ?"  He  can  not  tell,  and  she  can  not,  and  nobody  can. 
So  it  is,  and  so  it  will  be,  all  the  time,  here,  and  there,  and  every- 
where. And,  while  there  are  some  who,  disappointed,  rebound  and 
break  away  into  immoralities,  or  into  an  indifference  which  is  an  immo- 
rality in  the  realm  of  love,  there  are  others,  of  a  greater  soul,  who 
give  their  whole  life  to  fidelities  in  their  relation.  They  know  that 
they  do  not  love.  They  know  that  there  is  that  in  them  which  is 
capable  of  development,  but  which  they  have  never  known.  There 
are  prophecies  in  themselves,  which  they  do  "not  Avant  to  awaken,  of 
what  their  soul  is  ca,pable  of.  If  they  read  a  book  where  the  hero- 
ism of  love  is  described,  they  shut  the  book,  and  tears  flow  from 
their  eyes,  and  they  say,  "  Oh !  what  might  have  been."  But  that 
is  not  safe,  and  they  banish  it,  and  go  on  in  the  usual  way.  Early 
and  late  they  are  faithful. 

Look  at  this  wife  and  mother.  See  how  she  watches  over  others' 
interests.  There  is  no  duty  neglected  or  left  unperformed.  The 
household  is  well  ordered.  The  children  are  well  reared.  Apparent- 
ly, life  passes  in  that  family  about  as  well  as  in  any  other.  But  if 
you  look  into  that  woman's  heart,  you  shall  see  that  she  has  laid  up 
the  best  part  of  her. love.  Her  love  has  had  no  chance  to  manifest 
itself  on  earth.  And  yet,  she  has  done  her  duty.  She  has  been  a 
noble  woman,  a  true  wife,  and  a  faithful  mother.  In  her  children 
she  has  doubtless  found  a  natural  outlet  for  her  affection  ;  but  some- 
times the  children  themselves  are  frivolous,  and  thin,  and  poor. 
Even  they  sometimes  bitterly  disappoint  hex*.     And  yet  she  is  true. 

Right  over  against  her  is  another  like  her;  but  fortune  has 
favored  her — God,  who  is  fortune ;  and  to  her  was  given  one  that 
not  only  was  her  equal,  but  rose  above  her.  She  grew  in  him  as  a 
sweet  and  fragrant  flower  groWs  in  the  side  of  a  great  hill,  that  is  its 
shelter  and  nourishment.  And  all  her  life  was  a  beauteous  life.  It 
ran  like  a  rill  down  the  hillside,  and  sang  all  the  time.  "It  was  like 
flowers  that  know  no  summer  and  no  winter. 

Looke'd  at  outwardly,  these  two  women's  lives  seem  alike.  Peo- 
ple seeing  them  in  the  realm  of  duty  in  the  householxl,  would  say 
that  they  were  alike.     But    when  you  go  to  the  bottom,  are  they 


354  THE  HIDDEN   LIFE. 

alike  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  there  is  a  hidden  life  ?  Is  it  not  true  that 
it  is  the  supremest  affection,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  heart,  that  deter- 
mines what  the  life  is  ? 

I  hold,  then,  that  the  difference  between  a  true  Christian  and 
other  men  is  not  an  outward  one,  so  that  you  can  distinguish  him 
from  them,  as  you  would  distinguish  a  black  swan  from  a  white  one, 
but  that  it  is  a  diflerence  which  God  sees  at  the  bottom  of  the  soul — 
the  secret  and  hidden  life.  Such  is  the  difference  between  ordinary 
Christians  and  the  best  specimens  of  the  world. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  ideal  manhood  which  every  true  Christian 
must  needs  have.  There  comes  up  in  every  one  that  is  intelligently 
educated  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ's  truth,  a  sense  of  something  larger 
and  nobler  than  that  which  is  required  of  a  man  by  the  public  senti- 
ment of  this  life.  "  If  ye  love  them  which  love  you,  what  thank 
have  ye  ?"  If  you  are  no  better  than  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  you 
shall  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  A  man  wlio  is  a  Christian  feels 
that  he  is  bound  not  only  to  be  as  good  as  his  fellow-men,  but  in 
some  resj)ects  transcendently  better ;  and  that  better  lies  in  the 
inward  sense  that  he  has  of  manhood;  There  rises  up  before  men  a 
sense  of  honor,  a  sense  of  being,  a  sense  of  beauty,  a  sense  of  sym- 
metry m  themselves,  that  abides  with  them,  and  would,  though  there 
Avere  no  outward  manifestations  of  it.  Persons  in  whom  the  love  of 
praise  is  inordmate,  and  who  can  scarcely  detach  the  idea  of  noble 
character  from  the  idea  of  praise  for  that  noble  character — such  per- 
sons, when  under  the  predominant  influence  of  the  divine  mind,  come 
to  be  quite  independent  of  the  inspection  of  any  human  being,  and  to 
be  dependent  only  on  the  inspection  of  God  himself  It  is  a  charac- 
ter which,  for  depth,  for  width,  for  variety,  for  strength,  for  purity, 
for  sweetness  of  blossom  and  for  abundance  of  fruit,  is  not  required 
in  this  world.     Nay,  it  is  hardly  attainable  here. 

I  think  the  most  affecting  parts  of  life  are  those  secret  strug- 
gles that  men  make  toward  an  ideal  manhood!  It  is  a  noble  thing 
for  a  man  to  strive,  not  only  for  an  outward  end  and  aim,  but  also 
for  an  inward  manhood :  not  because  society  demands  it — he 
already  pleases  and  satisfies  society ;  not  because  the  church  demands 
it — he  is  already  a  reputable  member  in  the  church;  but  because 
there  is  something  which  demands  that  he  should  be  larger  and 
nobler  and  better  than  either  society  or  the  external  church  demands 
him  to  be ;  for  the  sake  of  himself,  and  for  the  sake  of  God  and 
Christ  Jesus.  There  are  no  more  afiecting  lives  than  these  lives 
of  yearning,  of  aspiration,  of  resolution,  and  of  endeavor.  And 
there  are  no  more  affecting  passages  in  human  life  than  these  unex- 
pressed, silent  inward  strivings.  Not  the  battles  that  roar  with 
mighty  artillery  are   the  most  important.      The  battles   in   which 


*"  TEE  hiddej^  life.  355 

thoughts  are  the  only  swords,  and  purposes  are  the  only  spears,  and 
tears  are  the  only  shots — the  mward  struggles  of  men's  souls — these 
are,  after  all,  the  mightiest  battles ;  and  in  the  sight  of  God  they  are 
the  most  Sublime.  There  is  many  a  man  that  gives  no  outward  in- 
dication of  being  much  of  a  man,  whose  soul,  God,  looking  upon 
him,  sees  to  be  a  great  sphere.  In  estimating  men  we  must  reject 
the  sensuous  measure,  and  droj)  from  our  minds  the  idea  of  magni- 
tude. 

If  you  saw  a  man  as  great  as  Shakespeare,  or  as  great  as  Goethe, 
undergoing  mighty  struggles,  you  would  have  sympathy  for  him ; 
but  if  it  was  a  poor  cobbler  on  the  bench,  or  a  pauper,  that  was  under- 
going struggles^  you  would  rather  smile  in  pity,  and  pass  by.  Not 
so  God.  His  sympathy  does  not  depend  upon  how  large  a  man  is,  or 
how  richly  he  is  endowed  with  the  original  forces  of  the  mind.  It  is 
the  soul  protesting  against  the  bondage  of  this  world,  and  refusing  to 
be  ti'ampled  upon ;  it  is  the  Son  of  God  that  is  in  every  one  of  us, 
calling  out  for  its  own  rights,  and  asking  to  be  set  free,  that  has  the 
divine  sympathy.  There  is  a  moral  sublimity  inhering  m  the  quality 
itself,  quite  independent  of  the  power  and  magnitude  by  which  that 
quality  is  being  exercised.  And  it  is  found  among  the  lowest  and 
poorest,  as  well  as  among  the  highest  and  richest. 

There  are  thousands  who  never  speak  in  meeting,  who  never  have 
their  lives  written  for  a  Sunday-school  library,  and  who  are  untrum- 
peted  in  this  world,  but  who  have  wonderful  exi^eriences.  They  do 
not  understand  them.  They  can  not  give  an  explanation  of  that 
strange  and  witching  turmoil  Avhich  at  times  comes  into  their  souls. 
Persons  that  are  wonderfully  stirred  up  by  the  morning  twilight,  and 
by  the  evening  twilight,  and  that  do  not  know  what  ails  them ;  per- 
sons whom  the  far-sounding  bell  sets  astir  inwardly,  and  who  do  not 
know  what  ails  them  ;  persons  who  are  susceptible  to  the  poetic  and 
artistic  mfluences  in  society,  and  do  not  know  what  ails  them — God 
sees  these  pex'sons,  and  sees  their  inward  and  hidden  life ;  and  he  knows 
that  though  they  are  ignorant,  and  do  not  know  how  to  marshal  their 
forces,  they  are  striking  for  independence,  and  calling  out  for  a 
higher  and  truer  spiritual  life.  And  his  sympathies  are  with  all  who 
are  struggling  to  rise  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  manhood — and  as  much 
with  those  Avho  are  undeveloped  as  with  those  who  are  developed. 
But  it  is  not  so  with  us.  We  do  not  feel  on  seeing  a  grown  up  man 
suffer,  as  we  do  on  seeing  a  child  suffer,  that  does  not  know  how  to 
use  words  even,  and  turns  its  misty  eye  to  the  father  and  mother 
with  a  grief-full  look,  because  they  do  not  relieve  it.  We  can  not  tell 
why,  but  we  sympathize  with  and  pity  the  grown-up  man  as  we  do 
not  the  child.  I  am  more  touched  by  the  suffering  of  those  unknow- 
ing souls  than  I  am  by  the  suffering  of  the  intelligent,  educated,  SQlf- 


356  TEE  EIDDEN  LIFE. 

analyzing,  comprehending  souls  ;  yet  there  is  something  veiy  sublime 
.  and  noble  in  the  endeavors  of  men  that  have  become  good,  to  become 
better.  The  strife  from  bad  to  good  is  but  a  single  step.  Then  comes 
the  next  strife,  from  good  to  better.  Then  comes  the  next  strife,  from 
better  to  still  better.  And  as  you  go  up  the  line  of  development, 
every  step  is  steeper,  and  every  achievement  harder  to  be  won.  And 
the  nearer  you  come  to  perfect  manhood,  the  moi*e  you  have  to  con- 
test and  suffer  for  every  thing  that  you  get.  And  the  sufferings  of 
sensitive  natures,  who  are  the  admiration  of  men  for  their  excellence, 
because  they  are  not  as  excellent  as  the  law  of  God  in  their  own 
imagination  requires,  are  wi'itten  in  the  book  of  God's  remembrance 
in  heaven,  though  they  are  unknown  on  earth. 

There  is  belonging  to  this  hidden  life  the  soul's  familiar  inter- 
course with  Christ.  This  is  the  sweeter  pai't  of  it.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  talking  with  God.  It  is  said,  in  that  venerable  old  record, 
that  in  the  cool  of  the  day  God  toalJced  in  the  garden,  and  called  to 
Adam.  I  know  one  thing — that  that  same  habit  has  continued  to 
this  day ;  for  I  have,  "  in  the  cool  of  the  day,"  on  the  hillside,  a  hun- 
dred times,  walked  with  him  too.  God  is  accustomed  to  come  down. 
He  makes  himself,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  a  guest,  and 
he  abides  in  the  souls  of  those  who  know  how  to  accept  him. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  communion  with  Christ,  as  one  speaketh  to 
a  friend,  face  to  face.  There  is  a  banqueting-house  where  he  sits 
down  with  those  who  are  his  discijDles.  He  is  with  them  in  their 
solitary  hours — -not  necessarily  hours  of  the  closet,  but  hours  of 
trouble  as  well.  In  the  solitude  of  Western  forests,  I  have  lifted 
psalms  and  hymns  to  God,  and  have  had  communion-  with  him 
such  as  I  never  had  in  the  sanctuary.  There  is  many  a  man  on  the 
lonely  watch  at  sea  ;  there  is  many  a  solitary  watcher  on  the  land ; 
there  is  many  a  one  in  the  recesses  of  business ;  thei'e  is  many  a  one 
in  the  toil  and  fatigue  and  vexation  of  the  week-day  or  in  the  broad 
calm  of  the  Sabbath,  that  has .  this  soul-communion  with  Christ.  It 
is  the  banquet  of  love.  What  words  can  describe  it  ?  It  is  ineffable. 
It  is  full  of  glory — at  times,  of  inexpressible  glory. 

This  hidden  life  no  man  can  see.  Yet  what  better  evidence  could 
there  be  of  its  existence  than  the  testimony,  "  I  have  been  extremely 
happy  in  meeting  with  my  Saviour  "?  All  those  glancing  thoughts  ; 
all  those  gratitudes ;  all  that  sense  of  yearning ;  all  that  lifting  up 
of  every  thing  in  the  soul  that  is  unanalyzed  and  undefinable ;  all 
that  rising  up  of  the  spiritual  nature  under  the  strong  drawings  of 
God's  very  presence  ;  all  that  peace  which  j9«ssei/i  understanding,  and 
which  God  knows  how  to  i-ain  down  into  the  soul  when  he  comes 
near,  and  puts  his  arms  about  you,  and  takes  you  into  his  very 
bosom,  so  that  you  can  look  up  and  say,  in  that  rapturous  moment, 


THE  HIDDEN   LIFE.  357 

"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee?  and,  There  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  beside  thee  " — these  are  parts  of  that  hidden  life.  And 
it  may  well  be  called  a  life,  though  it  be  hidden.  And  though  out- 
ward praying,  and  much  that  goes  to  make  devotional  exercise,  may 
seem  to  be  mechanical,  and  is,  it  does  not  alter  the  fact  that  there  is 
this  secret,  deep,  blessed  inward  life.  And  they  are  indeed  poor  fol- 
lowers of  Christ  who  have  never  had  those  joyful  experiences  which 
proceed  from  the  hidden  life.  That  is  a  poor  road  for  a  man  to  travel 
in  which  he  can  not  find  a  sunny  spot  in  winter,  or  a  shady  spot  in 
summer,  where  he  may  sit  down  and  eat  his  food.  That  must  be  a 
savage  country  in  which  there  are  no  resting-places.  The  soul's 
resting-places  in  this  world  are  many.  Yea,  it  must  needs  be  that 
there  are  many, 'when  even  a  pile  of  stones  is  a  pillar  good  enough 
for  a  child  of  God,  sleeping  thereon,  to  see  angels  ascending  and  de- 
scending between  him  and  heaven. 

Not  to  open  this  further,  I  remark,  in  closing. 

First,  that  the  morality  of  a  man,  and  his  whole  external  life,  is 
his  poorest  part,  if  he  is  a  true  man.  That  which  you  carry  out- 
wardly bears  no  comjjarison  to  that  which  you  carry  inwardly,  if 
you  are  a  true  man.  You  know  very  well  that  this  is  so  in  your 
family.  You  know  that  you  are  misjudged  if  any  body  thinks  that 
you  are,  a-s  a  father  and  a  husband,  only  what  you  show  yourself  to 
be  in  the  street.  If  a  man  goes  into  company,  there  is  that  in  him 
which  shuts  him  up.  And  when  he  comes  into  the  household  among 
his  most  fixmiliar  friends,  he  can  not  say  his  dearest  things.  Nay, 
when  only  you  and  your  comjsanion  are  together,  you  can  not  say  the 
things  which  are  the  most  divine  in  you.  It  is  only  when  the  favoring 
hour  comes,  at  last,  and  you  are  helped  by  circumstances,  that,  in 
some  whispered  word,  in  some  glancing  moment,  you  say  things 
that,  like  seals,  make  their  pictures  on  the  memory  forever. 

And  as  it  is  in  the  household,  so  it  is  in  your  whole  life.  That 
part  of  your  life  which  you  can  use  outside  is  not  the  best,  nor  the 
richest,  nor  the  truest  part  of  it.  Tiie  things  which  are  seen  pai'take 
of  the  imperfection  of  sense  and  matter.  The  invisible  life  of  every 
true  man — that  which  he  is  back  of  his  conduct,  and  words,  and  ges- 
tures, and  postures,  and  demeanor ;  that  which  he  is  as.  God  sees  him 
in  the  secret  silence  of  his  own  closet-self — that  is  the-  true  man,  and 
ought  to  be  better  than  any  other  part.  It  is  said  of  a  man,  fre- 
quentl)'^,  "  He  is  better  than  he  seems."  It  is  a  poor  man  that  is  not 
better  than  he  seems.  There  are  many  men  who  are  worse  than  they 
seem — that  is  so ;  and  there  are  many  men  who  are  better  than  they 
seem — that  is  so,  too,  thanks  be  to  God.  There  are  many  men  who 
do  not  know  how  to  take  the  good  that  is  in  them  and  organize  it 
outside.     There  are  many  men  who,  though  they  are  weak  in  the 


858  THE  HIDDEN'  LIFE. 

flesh,  yet  hnve,  relatively,  a  great  deal  of  power  in  tlie  intellect  and 
spirit.  Tliere  are  many  men  who  know  how  to  be  better  men  in  their 
tlioughts  than  in  their  actions.  There  are  many  men  who  out  of  temp- 
tation come  to  equipoise,  but  who  in  temptation  have  not  that 
equipoise.  Christ  knows  it ;  and  he  pities  a  great  many  men,  and  will 
do  justice  to  a  great  many  men,  whom  we  tread  under  our  feet.  Just 
as  you  are,  you  ought  to  be  more  just.  Kind  as  you  are,  you  ought 
to  be  kinder.  True  as  you  are,  you  ouglit  to  be  truer.  Generous  as 
you  are,  outwardly,  there  ought  to  be  a  fountain  in  you  that  is  more 
nobly  full  of  generosity. 

Do  you  know  what  I  think  is  a  mean  man  ?  A  man  that  is  afraid 
not  to  do  a  good  thing,  and  then  is  sorry  because  he  has  done  it — 
that  I  call  a  mean  man :  a  man  who — after  he  has  given  money  to 
some  benevolent  object,  says  to  a  friend,  "  I  was  in  a  corner,  and  had 
to  give  that  twenty-five  dollars."  'You  were  a  fool  to  give  twenty-five 
dollars  when  you  did  not  want  to ;  and  having  given  it,  it  is  mean 
for  you  to  say,  "I  suppose  it  is  all  right ;  but  I  did  not  want  to  give 
that  twenty-five  dollars.  It  was  for  some  poor  widow,  I  believe,  or 
something  of  that  sort."  Could  any  body  but  a  mean  man  do  tliat  ? 
Your  circumstances  wei-e  so  much  better  than  your  disposition  that 
you  were  brought  where  you  really  did  a  thing  that  was  worthy  of 
your  truer  and  better  nature,  and  worthy  of  your  hopes  for  the  life 
to  come  ;  but  the  doing  of  the  thing  was  not  sweet  enough  to  keep 
you  to  .the  flavor,  and  you  spit  it  out,  and  went  away  mourning  over 
it — feeling  sorry  that  you  did  it !  "What  can  you  make  of  such  a 
man  as  that — a  man  that  does  good  by  accident,  and  then  repents 
of  it? 

There  are  many  men  who  are  far  better  than  their  reputations. 
There  are  many  men  who  have  the  reputation  of  being  stingy  and 
cruel,  and  who  will  wring  your  neck  in  a  strife  or  an  emergency  ;  but 
who,  at  another  time,  and  when  they  are  in  a  difierent  vein,  would  .sit 
by  you  night  and  day,  and  would  not  spare  their  bodies  nor  their 
wealth  in  ministering  to  you.  They  would  kill  you  on  one  side,  and 
save  you  on  the  other. 

There  are  many  men  who  are  better  than  they  seem  ;  but  all  men 
ought  to  be.  When  you  have  done  your  best ;  when  you  have 
brought  yourself  up  to  such  a  degree  of  excellence  that  you  ai'e 
praised  and  patted,  and  called  amiable,  and  generous,  and  refined,  and 
symmetrical,  and  saintly,  and  you  overhear  such  whisperings  about 
your  virtues  that  you  are  tempted  to  think  that  you  are  almost  a 
bird  of  paradise — even  then,  you  ought  to  be  black  as  a  crow  out- 
side, compared  with  what  you  are  inside  !  For,  after  all,  that  man's 
inside  must  be  very  low  who  can  get  his  outside  nearly  up  to  it.  If  a 
man,  dragging  this  clumsy  body,  can  perform  about  as  well  as  hia 


THE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  359 

thoughts  and  feelings  can  plan,  what  must  those  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings be  ?  He  who  comes  near  his  ideal  has  his  ideal  very  low.  But 
that  man  who  is  manfully  and  continuously  working  to  carry  up  the 
outside,  and  who  still  sees  his  ideal  above  his  performance,  and  rising 
as  fast  as  he  rises,  ought  to  be  happy— especially  if  he  feels  unhappy  ! 
Blessed  is  the  man  who  is  never  contented  with  his  conduct.  Blessed 
is  the  man  who  is  never  without  some  pain  in  the  soul.  Blessed  is 
the  man  who  sees  that  there  are  infinite  heights  beyond  him.  But 
woe  be  to  the  man  who,  in  this  sphere,  and  in  his  present  circum- 
stances, says,  "  I  am  good  enough."  He  is  scarcely  worthy  of  being 
called  a  shuck  or  a  cob.  He  certainly  is  not  fit  to  be  called  the  grain 
or  the  bread. 

I  wish  to  make  one  application  on  the  subject  of  the  beauty  of  our 
outwxard  lives  and  the  beauty  of  our  occupations  ;  because  the  grace, 
the  richness,  the  significance  of  our  out\vai-d  lives  is  derived  from  what 
we  put  into  them  by  our  inward  lives,  as  I  have  already  intimated. 
Our  outward  lives  are  discriminated  one  from  another  by  the  qualities 
which  animate  the  one  and  the  other.  But  there  are  a  great  many 
men  who  are  called  to  homely  lives.  And  it  is  in  the  power  of  a 
man,  out  of  his  soul,  to  make  a  homely  thing  handsome.  It  is  in  the 
power  of  a  man,  by  the  cheerfulness  of  his  disposition,  to  lift  himself 
up  in  a  given  pursuit  so  that  any  body  who  engages  in  that  pursuit 
shall  be  able  to  make  it  finer  and  nobler.  (Well,  I  do  not  yet  hit 
what  I  am  after !)  Why  do  you  want  to  go  to  college  ?  You  say, 
"  Because  that  is  the  way  to  be  successful  in  life.''  That  is  a  motive 
o-ood  enough  so  far  as  it  goes.  But  I  want  you  to  go  to  college,  not 
because  you  are  going  to  be  a  lawyer,  or  doctor,  or  minister,  or 
teacher,  or  professor,  but  because  it  will  make  more  of  you.  A  man 
ouo-ht  to  want  a  good  education  because  he  wants  to  be  more  of  a 
man,  and  ought  to  want  to  go  to  college  because  it  will  augment  his 
manhood.  If  I  had  a  son  who  was  going  to  plow  all  the  days  of  his 
life,  I  should  say  that  he  ought  to  be  educated  in  order  to  be  a  good 
plowman.  You  are  going  to  be  a  man  ;  and  your  manhood  ought 
not  to  be  acicording  to  the  measure  of  your  occupation,  but  larger 
than  that.  And  in  every  single  pursuit  that  a  man  undertakes,  this 
inward  quality,  this  hidden  life,  ought  to  go  through  it,  and  make 
it  essentially  noble.  If  a  man  is  going  to  be  a  musician,  why  is  he 
going  to  be  one  ?  Is  it  that  he  may  touch  ecstatically  all  the  various 
notes?  Is  it  that  he  may  make  the  groundlings  gape  ?  Is  it  that 
he  may  make  the  money  chink  in  his  pockets?  These,  as  incidental, 
collateral,  and  coordinate  motives,  are  not  to  be  reproved.  But  a 
nobler  view  is  this:  "I  am  called  to  music,  and  that  is  to  be  the 
means  by  which  whatever  is  beautiful  and  true  in  me  is  to  express 
itself  to  men ;  and  I  take  it  as  my  instrument." 


360  TEE  HIDDEN  LIFE. 

Why  do  I  speak  to  you  as  a  preacher,  from  Sunday  to  Sunday  ? 
God  knows  it  is  because  I  have  things  which  I  think  will  make  you 
better,  and  not  because  I  want  your  admiration,  though  I  like  that 
too,  as  it  comes  in  without  my  seeking  it.  And  I  like  your  sympa- 
thy and  your  love.  For  I  am  a  man  of  like  passions  with  yourselves 
— no  worse  in  some  things,  and  no  better  in  some  things — as  good  as 
the  average,  I  hope.  But  I  hold  that  God  gave  me  speaking  power, 
and  gave  me  a  sense  of  what  manhood  is;  and  what  I  long  for  is,  to 
see  better  men  and  better  women  in  communities  and  families. 
And  I  love  my  country  and  the  world,  and  labor  by  all  that  is  in  me 
to  make  men  ambitious  of  good  things,  to  make  the  light  of  genius 
flash  across  homely  ways,  and  make  fewer  tears  and  more  smiles, 
and  make  fewer  bad  men  and  more  good  men. 

And  I  say  that,  if  I  were  a  violinist,  I  ought  to  have  the  same 
spirit.  If  I  am  called  to  be  a  fiddler,  I  am  ordained  of  God  to  make 
mankind  lift  up  their  heads;  and  if  I  do  that,  I  must  have  something 
in  me.  But  w^hat  is  a  fiddler  worth,  who  is  all  dried  up  at  heart,  and  is 
no  bigger  than  a  pin,  and  who  thinks  it  his  duty  to  scrape  his  catgut 
from  morning  till  night,  and  has  no  higher  ideal  than  that  ?  A  fool 
could  do  it  as  well  as  he.  But  if  a  man  is  only  a  player  of  the  fiddle, 
and  God  has  inspired  his  soul,  and  Christ  has  baptized  him  into  a 
new  life,  and  has  given  him  yearnings  and  aspirations  for  things 
noble  and  true,  he  can  serve  God  and  his  fellow-men  by  that  instru- 
ment. There  is  something  for  all  to  do,  but  by  difierent  instruments 
— one  by  his  organ ;  another  by  his  piano  ;  another  by  his  paint- 
brush ;  another  by  his  sculptor's  eiisel ;  another  by  his  plow ;  an- 
other by  his  carpenter's  tools;  another  by  his  trowel — every  man  by 
that  to  which  he  is  called  in  the  providence  of  God,  that  he  may  give 
some  expression  to  the  inwardness  that  is  waked  up  in  him.  There 
are  rude  workmen  who  have,  back  of  their  hand,  back  of  their  skill,  a 
soul  that  is  trying  to  express  itself  in  the  realities  of  life.  This 
is  the  ordination  which  makes  true  manhood  and  true  genius. 

And  this  is  the  great  reason  why  men  are  so  shallow.  Why,  the 
pictures  that  I  see  are  so  thin  that  a  fly  could  wade  across  them 
and  not  get  drowned  !  A  million  pictures  are  not  thick  enough  to 
take  one  in  knee-deep !  The  trouble  is,  that  the  painter  has 
nothing  in  him — or  nothing  but  paint.  He  is  simply  a  portrait- 
painter — or  merely  a  Chinese  dauber.  Some  outward  things  he  sees 
that  will  sell,  and  he  puts  them  on  canvas.  It  ^cas  wood ;  it  is  paint ; 
and  a  fool  prepares  it  for  the  market ! 

But  if  a  man  is  endowed  of  God  to  see  that  every  thing  in  nature 
carries  lights,  and  that  every  thing  in  nature  has  symbols,  indications, 
hints  ;  and  if,  seeing  better  than  other  men,  and  feeling  deeper  than 
they,  he  can  take  his  brush  and  seize  the  most  significant  thing,  and 


TEE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  361 

represent  it  in  such  ways  that  when  other  men  see  it  they  say, 
"  Why  did  not  I  see  that  before  ?"  (though  they  can  not  tell  what 
they  do  see  now  !)  he  is  a  real  artist.  The  smallest  thing  done  by  a  man 
who  has  true  genius  is  important ;  and  the  extent  to  which  such  a  man 
can  elevate  and  benefit  his  fellow-men,  depends  upon  the  amount  of  in- 
wardness that  he  has.  That  is  the  reservoir  of  the  soul.  And  it  is 
its  depth ;  it  is  the  power  of  its  contents ;  it  is  the  struggling  man- 
hood which  Christ  has  awakened,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  inspires, 
and  which  God  is  carrying  up  to  himself — it  is  this  that  is  to  stand 
behind  every  speaker,  every  artist,  every  worker.  You  are  all  work- 
ers together  with  God^  whether  you  hold  the  rudder,  or  handle  the 
chisel,  or  steer  the  state — whatever  you  do ;  and  you  are  workers 
for  the  same  great  end — the  renovation  of  man,  and  the  rebuilding 
of  the  globe,  until  it  shines  in  its  perfect  newness,  and  heaven  and 
earth  are  one. 

How  blessed  is  this  inward  life,  by  which  a  man's  soul  is  a  fountain 
out  of  which  come  the  issues  of  life !  how  noble !  and  how  hard  to  be 
attained  !  But  when  it  is  reached,  how  it  is  worth  every  struggle,' 
and  every  tear,  and  every  aspiration,  and  all  the  gropings,  and 
stumblings,  and  downfalls,  and  every  stroke  and  wound,  by  which 
at  last  the  victory  came  !  And  yet  how  many  are  striving  to 
make  themselves  happy  in  the  world's  way !  0  fools !  O  crowds 
of  fools !  O  innumerable  myriad  fools !  that  are  trying  to  be  happy  by 
the  outside,  though  the  world  has  shown  you  over  and  over  again,  in 
its  teai's,  and  groans,  and  pains,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  being 
happy  in  that  way,  and  though  Christ  has  deigned  to  i-each  over  and 
say  to  you,  "  A  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  things  which  he  pos- 
sesseth !"  You  have  tried  it  all  the  way  up,  only  to  find  that  you 
are  never  so  happy  as  you  expected  to  be.  You  said,  as  you  were 
nearing  manhood,  "  If,  when  I  am  twenty-one  years  old,  things  can 
be  so  and  so,  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy."  They  were  as  you  had 
desired ;  and  yet  you  were  not  happy.  When  you  were  twenty-one, 
you  said,  "If,  when  I  am  twenty-five,  I  could  have  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars, I  would  not  ask  for  any  more ;"  and  you  got  the  ten  thousand 
dollars ;  but  the  idea  of  being  satisfied  with  that  you  laughed  to 
scorn.  When  you  were  twenty-five,  you  said,  *'  If  at  thirty  I  could 
only  have  such  a  position  in  a  partnership,  with  such  and  such  a 
name,  I  would  be  entirely  satisfied  ;"  and  you  got  what  you  asked 
for ;  but  it  was  nothing  to  you.  Your  ambition  lay  far  beyond  that. 
And  through  your  whole  life  you  have  been  shifting  your  ground, 
and  have  always  been  going  to  he  happy,  but  have  never  been  happy 
in  the  proportion  in  which  your  money  has  increased,  nor  in  the  pro- 
portion in  which  your  intelligence  has  increased,  nor  in  the  propor- 
tion in  which  the  amplitude  of  your  life  outwardly  has  increased. 


362  TEE  EIDBEN  LIFE. 

Your  table  is  better,  your  house  is  larger  and  finer,  your  furniture  is 
richer,  your  place  in  society  is  carried  up  very  much ;  and  yet,  you 
are  not  as  happy  as  you  used  to  be.  And  you  are  still  going  on  in 
the  same  blindfolded  way,  and  are  determined  to  see  if  you  can  not 
heap  up  gold  and  silver,  and  outward  honor,  and  get  more  happi- 
ness out  of  them. 

Let  me  tell  you,  no  man  will  be  any  happier  in  this  world  than 
that  will  make  him  which  he  has  in  himself.  Not  that  I  deny  that 
external  conditions  ha've  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it ;  but  I  hold  that 
the  prime  condition  of  happiness  consists  in  the  soul  that  a  man  car- 
ries. If  a  man's  mind  is  staid  on  God,  if  he  believes  in  his  own  im- 
mortality, and  if  he  knows  that  Christ  loves  him  and  has  redeemed 
his  soul,  you  might  put  him  in  a  dungeon,  and  he  would  be  happy. 
But  if  a  man  has  no  such  support,  and  no  such  comfort,  you  might 
put  him  on  a  throne,  and  he  could  not  be  happy. 

Now,  what  are  your  materials  for  happiness,  young  man  ?  What 
have  you  in  yourself  that  is  competent  to  make  you  happy  ?  Your 
happiness  is  all  ambitiously  marked  out.  It  depends  on  external 
conditions.  But  these  never  did  sprinkle  joy  on  any  man's  blossom- 
ing soul.  All  happiness  must  come  from  within ;  from  moral  quality, 
and  social  quality,  and  spiritual  quality — from  the  manhood  that  is 
in  you.  Where  are  your  elements  of  happiness  ?  How  few  such 
elements  there  are  in  most  men !  How  many  there  are  that  are 
going  into  old  age  ransacked  by  selfishness,  worn  out  by  the  appetites 
and  passions,  desti'oyed  by  the  animal  propensities  !  How  many  of 
you  have  used  up  all  that  was  of  any  value  in  you,  and  are  waiting  for 
the  sexton's  shovel  to  cover  you  up  and  get  you  out  of  the  way ! 
How  many  men  live  their  three  score  and  ten  years,  and  then  die, 
and  are  buried,  of  whom  it  may  be  said  that  the  clod  over  their  head 
is  worth  more  to  the  world  than  they  were !  O  woeful  life !  O 
shameful  life ! — above  all,  when  there  stands  waiting  for  them  this 
life  of  the  soul  hidden  with  Christ  in  God. 

To  that  I  commend  you — that  which  is  your  joy  here,  which  will 
be  your  support  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  which  will  be  the  sure 
foundation  and  condition  of  joy  in  immortality. 


TEE  HIDDEN  LHE.  363 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

O  Lord  our  God !  thou  art  greater  than  that  the  earth  can  express  thee. 
Thou  fillest  the  spheres.  Thy  being  is  not  known,  nor  can  it  be  in  any  point  of 
time.  Though  thou  art  surrounded  by  innumerable  intelligences,  not  all  that 
gaze  and  behold  thee,  taking  in  a  conception  of  thee,  can  take  in  the  whole  of 
thine  infinite  and  unfathomable  being.  And  only  canst  thou  be  known  in  the 
successive  evolutions  and  developments  of  the  eternal  world.  For  thou  art  such 
and  so  much,  thou  art  so  transcendent  in  the  outreach  of  every  one  of  thine 
attributes,  that  only  when  the  soul  grows  to  knowledge  in  its  own  essential 
stature,  can  it  comprehend  any  thing  more  of  thee.  For  thou  art  not  as  a  thing 
that  we  look  upon.  Thou  art  one  upon  whom  our  being  travels.  Thou  art  one 
whom  by  searcliing  we  can  not  find  out,  nor  know  unto  perfection.  We  rejoice 
that  there  is  such  amplitude ;  and  though  it  leaves  us  in  darkness  or  in  twilight, 
we  rejoice  in  the  glory  of  the  future.  We  rejoice  also  in  the  conception  which 
it  gives  us  of  the  richness  and  wonder  of  thine  invitation.  Thou  art  calling  us 
to  thee,  and  pronouncing  us  thy  children ;  and  thou  art  kindling  in  us  the  first 
faint  yearnings  of  the  filial  heart.  Thou  art  drawing  us  spiritually  and  inwardly 
unto  thyself.  We  know  not  what  all  these  foretokens  mean  ;  but  that  they 
prophesy  coronation,  we  know.  Yet,  what  is  to  be  the  fashion  of  that  life,  what 
is  to  be  the  nature  of  that  soul,  what  we  are  to  be  in  that  other  manhood,  in  that 
higher  existence,  it  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  Here  we 
are  environed  by  outward  influences — by  matter  ;  here  we  are  fastened  down  to 
the  globe  on  which  we  dwell,  springing  from  out  of  it,  and  still  cumbered  vsdth 
it,  though  striving  to  get  free.  We  can  not  in  these  rude  and  earthly  experiences 
find  analogy,  nor  any  thing  to  compass  the  truth  of  that  glory  which  shall  be 
revealed  in  us  through  Jesus  Christ.  And  all  the  voices  out  of  the  invisible,  all 
those  words  of  strange  and  mysterious  meaning  which  stand  recorded  in  thy 
blessed  word,  fall  upon  our  ear,  but  bring  little  to  our  moral  sense — and  yet, 
something.  They  kindle  in  us  devout  expectations ;  they  awakp  in  us  earnest 
yearnings  ;  they  inspire  us  to  turn  from  the  things  that  men  call  great  and  good, 
and  measure  them  with  a  new  and  higher  measurement.  We  are  learning  by  thy 
grace  that  our  life  consists  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  we  possess ; 
and  we  are  learning  that  not  all  of  ourselves  and  of  our  own  faculties  are  for  us ; 
that  but  a  part  of  them  work  earthward,  and  but  a  part  work  heavenward.  And 
we  find,  gradually,  that  among  those  things  in  us  which  are  working  toward  the 
spiritual  and  the  divine,  there  are  finer  and  coarser  workings  ;  and  that  there  are 
degrees  of  excellence  even  in  the  most  excellent  things.  And  we  come  to  such  a 
sense  of  all  the  ways  in  which  we  are  growing,  or  may  grow,  that  we  have  a 
sovereign  contempt  for  what  we  are  now  in  this  fragmentary  being.  We  long 
for  a  nobler  manhood  ;  but  when  we  see  what  we  have  done  toward  it,  we  have 
but  laid  the  foundations.  There  is  no  manhood  into  which  we  can  enter  as  into  a 
mansion,  and  dwell  there.  There  is  nothing  perfected.  We  are  full  of  strivings, 
and  will  be.  We  can  not  go  back  again.  Having  tasted  the  better,  we  can  not 
be  contented  with  the  worse.  Having  known  the  power  of  the  life  to  come, 
having  known  something  of  the  intimacy  and  joy  of  thine  interior  love,  how  can 
we  turn  again  to  the  beggarly  elements  of  the  world  ?  It  must  needs  be  that  we 
keep  on,  unless  we  forsake  our  own  honor  and  dignity,  and  all  that  is  true  to  us. 


364  TUE  HIDDEN  LIFE. 

We  must  go  on ;  and  yet,  going  on  is  so  full  of  dissatisfaction  ;  so  little  do  we 
build  tliat  is  worth  building ;  so  much  are  ovir  best  eflForts  marred  by  the  over- 
measuring  ideal,  that,  every  day  when  we  have  done  the  best,  we  bring  back, 
oh  !  how  little.     And  how  imperfect  that  little ! 

O  Lord  our  God  !  we  do  not  desire  to  live  content.  We  know  that  we  must 
evermore  groan  and  travail  in  these  things.  We  tliank  thee  for  so  many  allevi- 
ating joys,  and  for  so  much  joy  as  we  have  in  outward  life.  We  thank  thee  for 
such  hope  and  expectation,  and  for  such  visions  of  blessedness,  and  for  such 
intervals  of  twilight,  as  are  given  to  us  on  our  way  home  to  heaven.  But  we 
seek  a  better  city,  and  a  nobler  character,  and  a  more  blessed  communion  with 
thee.  We  know  it  can  not  be  wrapped  again  in  darkness  until  reason  fail.  It 
hath  been  disclosed.  We  clasp  the  precious  secret.  We  are  of  God.  We  are 
going  back  to  him,  and  shall  yet  stand  arrayed  like  him,  and  not  unworthily  be 
called  the  sons  of  God.  And  we  can  not  forget  it.  This  thought  dwells  in  us 
and  overmfeasures  all  other  things. 

O  our  Father  1  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  this  blessed 
thought  of  discontent  —  discontent  with  lower  things,  and  aspiration  toward 
things  above  and  beyond — may  dwell  in  us  ;  that  we  may  not  slumber  nor  sleep ; 
that  we  may  not  go  into  torpor. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  never  die  while  yet  alive  and  walking 
about,  ghastly  and  useless.  We  beseech  of  thee,  minister  to  our  inward  life  by 
our  outward  doings.  Make  our  outward  life  rich  by  the  richness  of  this  inward 
love.  Pour  thine  own  love  into  us.  Every  day  rebuke  us,  that  thou  mayest 
make  us  better.  Every  day  chide  us,  that  we  may  see  the  beauty  of  thy  return- 
ing smile.  Every  day  smite  us,  if  only  then  thou  wilt  caress  us,  and  bring  us 
into  the  sweet  experience  of  thy  bosom  of  love.  O  thou  that  hast  loved  the 
world  !  O  thou  that  art  the  source  of  all  love  !  grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  we 
may  be  so  sanctified  in  thee  and  to  thee,  that  we  may  become  more  and  more  to 
each  other,  deeper,  richer,  stronger,  and  clasped  firmer  in  all  fidelities  and 
affections. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  us  in  the  service  of  the  sanctuary  to- 
day. Grant  that  the  truth  may  be  as  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  as  water  to  the 
thirsty.  Come  thou  thyself  in  the  speaking  of  the  truth  ;  and  may  it  be  more  to 
those  that  hear  than  it  is  in  the  speaking.  Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  it 
may  enter  into  all  the  passages  of  the  soul,  and  that  every  one  of  us  may  hear  an 
echoing ;  that  every  faculty,  in  its  own  separate  language,  may  speak  the  same 
thing  to  us  in  multiplied  voices. 

Let  thy  blessing  rest  upon  all  that  are  gathered  together  this  morning,  who 
come,  if  not  with  hands  full  of  flowers  to  offer  thee,  yet  with  hearts  full  of 
gratitude,  to  render  thanks  to  thee  for  thy  sparing  and  restoring  mercy.  Accept 
their  thanks,  and  abundantly  bless  them. 

O  Lord  God  1  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those  who  look  upon  great  dangers 
passed  away,  and  great  fears  that,  like  mighty  storms,  turn  away,  and  pass  by, 
and  leave  their  bolts  unsped,  and  who  bring  their  sacred  message,  may  be  ac- 
cepted, and  that  they  may  pour  out  their  hearts  of  gratitude  and  of  consecration. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  be  near  to  those  who  have  come  here  to  get 
strength,  who  are  burdened,  who  have  inward  troubles,  whose  troubles  have  no 
name  to  them,  and  whose  troubles  are  as  birds  of  prey,  flying  hither  and  thither, 
and  coming  out  imawares  upon  them.  O  Lord !  thou  canst  brood  and  protect 
thine  own.  And  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  so  canst  thou 
those  that  put  their  trust  in  thee.    We  commend  them  to  thy  care.      And  may 


THE  HIDDEN  LIFE.  365 

those  that  are  in  darkness,  and  those  that  are  suffering  the  pangs  ol  bereavement, 
feel  that  Christ  is  very  near  to  comfort  them  to-day — and  never  so  near  as  when 
they  are  in  darliness  ;  never  so  near  as  when  they  seem  to  tliemselves  to  be 
emptied  of  joy  ;  never  so  near  as  when  they  are  most  outcast  and  forlorn.  May 
they  find  God  a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  draw  near  to  all  that  are  in  the  midst  of 
life,  bearing  its  cares,  and  bearing  its  burdens,  and  endeavoring  to  adminis- 
ter its  responsibilities,  so  as  best  to  serve  God  and  man.  Strengthen  them 
in  every  generous  and  just  purpose ;  and  as  their  day  is,  so  may  their  strength  be 
also.  We  pray  thee,  that  thou  wilt  teach  men  not  so  much  to  let  alone  the 
world,  as  to  overcome  it  by  right  handling.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant 
them  grace  to  walk  in  and  out  before  thee  in  the  discharge  of  secular  duties,  so  as 
to  make  men  praise  God. 

Bless  this  church,  we  beseech  of  thee,  and  all  its  members — those  that  are  pre- 
sent with  us,  and  those  that  are  scattered  abroad.  Bless  any  that  are  upon  the 
great  deep  ;  any  that  are  in  foreign  lands  ;  any  that  are  in  remote  places  of  our 
own  land.  Be  near  to  them,  and  grant  that  the  Sabbath  may  rise  with  healing 
in  its  beams  upon  them  to-day.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  as  there  are  thou- 
sands who  turn  back  their  loving  thoughts  to  this  place,  and  to  the  truth  dispensed 
here,  it  may  be  to  them  as  though  they  were  here.  May  those  thoughts  bring 
down  the  blessings  of  God  upon  them. 

Bless,  we  pray  thee,  every  family.  Enrich  them  more  and  more.  Grant  that 
they  may  be  purer.  May  they  be  less  and  less  worldly.  May  they  have  more 
and  more  of  that  divine  and  pure  and  noble  life  which  shall  make  them  house- 
holds not  far  from  the  gate  of  heaven.  And  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  thou  wilt 
prepare  us  for  the  evils  that  are  before  us  in  life.  We  ask  not  that  thou  wilt 
ring  the  bell  to  warn  where  dangers  are.  We  have  committed  ourselves  to  thee, 
and  thou  wilt  take  care  of  that.  But  we  ask  thee  to  disclose  to  us  where  are 
great  joys.  We  shall  find  them  when  we  come  to  thee.  We  ask  thee  that  thou 
wilt  ordain  our  way ;  that  thou  wilt  give  us  every  day  contentment ;  that  thou 
wilt  every  day  give  us  faith  which  overcomes  the  world  ;  that  thou  wilt  every 
day  give  us  what  that  day  needs.  May  we  not  seek  to  prepare  ourselves  for 
future  contingencies  until  they  draw  near  to  us.  As  thou  hast  ministered  to  us 
the  grace  that  we  needed  at  each  particular  exigency  of  life,  so,  living  or  dying, 
thou,  O  Shepherd  I  wilt  prepare  thj'  flock,  and  guide  them.  When  a  streain  is  to 
be  forded,  thou  knowest  it  long  before  the  flock,  and  thou  wilt  choose  the  hour 
and  place,  and  be  there  to  guide  them  in  the  waters.  And  grant,  we  beseech  of 
thee,  that  we  may  every  one  feel,  though  we  have  wandered  far,  and  though  we 
be  the  children  of  Christian  parents,  and  have  forgotten  their  teachings,  and  have 
forgotten  even  the  purity  of  our  youth,  and  have  cast  aside  the  faith  of  our  fathers, 
that  we  are  not  forgotten  of  thee,  whom  we  forget ;  that  we  are  not  uncared  for, 
though  we  are  careless ;  that  we  are  loved,  though  we  no  longer  love  thee. 

We  commend  all  to  thy  great  and  gracious  heart,  and  pray  that,  living  or  dy- 
ing, we  may  be  still  under  thine  immediate  eye  and  care.  And  when  peril,  and 
task,  and  ti'ial,  and  suffering,  are  all  gone,  and  it  is  time  for  us  to  go,  may  we, 
better  than  birds,  know  the  call  from  the  winter  and  toward  the  south,  know  the 
meaning  of  this  call  heavenward,  and  spread  our  wings,  and  fly  through  all  the  way; 
and,  heariut;  the  sounds,  and  knowing  the  direction  by  the  light  and  the  blessed 
drawing  thither,  may  we  appear  in  Zion,  and  before  God. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  of  our  salvation,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit. 
Amen. 


XXI. 

DISCOUEAGEMENTS 

AND 

Comforts  in  Christian  Life. 


DISCOURAGEMENTS    AND    COMFOETS 

IN 

CHRISTIAN   LIFE. 

SUNDAY  MORNINGI»   JULY  4,  1869. 


"  Cast  not  away,  therefore,  your  confidence,  which  hath  great  recompense  of 
reward.  For  ye  have  need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  have  done  the  will  of  God, 
ye  might  receive  the  promise.  For  yet  a  little  while,  and  he  that  shall  come  will 
come,  and  will  not  tarry," — Heb.  x.  35-37. 


This  is  the  language  of  one  who  saw  the  early  disciples  so  envi- 
roned with  persecution,  with  social  difficulties  of  every  kind,  in  con- 
sequence of  their  Christian  privation,  that  they  were  carried  to  the 
utmost  strait,  and  were  liable  to  give  way,  and  to  throw  lap  their 
discipleship,  and  go  back  to  their  friends  and  their  civil  estate,  and 
live  as  other  men  did.  It  was^  state  of  discouragement ;  and  in  this 
particular  case  it  arose  from  external  causes,  acting  upon  the  early 
Christians. 

The  apostle^exhorts  them  not  to  cast  away  their  confidence.  It 
is  as  if  he  had  said,  in  respect  to  a  bond  which  one  had  purchased, 
and  which  seemed  to  have  depreciated  in  the  market,  It  is  worth  all 
its  face,  and  a  great  deal  more,  if  you  will  be  patient.  "  Cast  not 
away,  therefore,  your  confidence,  which  hath  great  recompense  of 
rewai'd." 

He  then  says  that  persons  must  expect,  in  the  attainment  of  any 
great  thing,  to  give  enough  time  for  the  result  to  ripen.  "  Ye  have 
need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  have  done  the  will  of  God,  ye  might 
receive  the  promise."  You  must  not  live  in  the  present,  and  by  the 
senses ;  you  must  not  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  in  spiritual  things  ; 
but,  even  after  you  have  done  your  whole  duty,  you  must  still  wait, 
and  give  time,  as  it  were,  for  God  to  \vork  out  your  reward. 

And  then,  as  against  the  feeling  that  there  is  no  God,  or  that  he 

Lesson  :  Eph.  i.    Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  180,  619. 


368  DISCOURAGEMENTS  AND  GOMFOBTS 

will  not  succor,  the  apostle  adds,  "For  yet  a  little  wliile,  and  he  that 
shall  come  will  come,  and  will  not  tarry."  It  is  only  a  seeming 
delay  that  God  practices.  To  him  it  is  no  delay.  It  is  only  delay 
to  us  because  we  reason  on  a  schedule  different  from  that  on  which 
the  infinite  God  reasons.  With  him  a  thousand  years  are  but  as  a 
day. 

£)iscouragements  are  incident  to  all  such  Christian  lives  as  are 
based  upon  Christian  truth.  The  source  of  discouragement  differs  in 
differing  ages  ;  and  yet,  alike  in  all  ages  there  is  this  substantial 
struggle  to  be  maintained  against  hopelessness.  If  in  one  age  exter- 
nal persecution  rages,  men  are  largely  delivered  from  discouragement 
from  internal  sources.  If  the  t^mes  change,  and  there  is  peace  with- 
out, then  discouragements  arise  from  the  operation  of  causes  within. 
But,  one  way  or  the  other,  every  man,  going  through  the  Christian 
life,  will  have  times  of  despondency.  They  will  have  the  least  of  it 
whose  ideal  of  religion  is  the  lowest ;  they  will  have  the  most  of  it, 
usually,  whose  ideal  is  the  highest ;  but  all  will  have  some,  if  the 
root  of  the  matter  be  in  them. 

The  yearning  and  the  discouragement  in  many  cases  will  depend 
upon  temperament,  and  upon  mental  peculiarities.  Sometimes  it 
will  depend  upon  health ;  at  other  times  upon  the  hopefulness  of  a 
man's  nature ;  and  at  other  times  upon  his  cautiousness  and  unhope- 
fulness.  Some  never  will  be  discouraged.  Some  are  sad  and  disap- 
pointed in  every  thing  beforehand,  and  always. 

Between  these  two  extremes  lies  the  great  army  of  campaigning 
Christians,  who  at  certain  times  and  seasons  are  full  of  discourage- 
ment, and  not  of  inspiriting  hope.  aTo  these  I  shall  address  myself 
this  morning. 

1.  There  are  many  discouragements  which  follow  false  concep- 
tions of  life,  and  which  result  from  the  practical  rectification  of  those 
conceptions.  There  are  those  who  enter  upon  a  Christian  life  expecting 
to  be  borne,  as  it  were,  by  the  divine  afflatus,  straight  through  their 
course.  They  think  themselves  to  be  ships.  Their  business  is  to 
set  the  sails,  God  is  to  give  the  winds.  And  they  are  to  be  wafted 
right  across  the  ocean.  When  they  find,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
they  are  to  Avork  out  their  own  salvation,  and  that  they  are  to  do  it 
with  fear  and  trembling,  and  that  God  only  works  in  them  to  will 
and  to  do,  and  that  the  effect  of  the  divine  influence  upon  them  is  to 
make  the  necessity  of  work  in  them  still  more  emphatic,  they  are 
disappointed  ;  because  it  was  not  to  that  feast  that  they  proposed  to 
come. 

There  are  those  who  have  supposed  a  religious  life  to  be  a  tide 
of  joyful  emotion.  They  expected  to  have  conflicts,  to  be  sure;  but 
then,  they  were  to  be  conflicts  out  of  a  joyful  experience  all  the  time. 


m  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  369 

They  thought  religion  was  some  Cleopatra's  bar^  ^3  <n  Wory  and  gold, 
with  purple  sails,  and  with  music  and  joyfulness  withm ;  and  though 
there  would  be  savage  barbarians  along  either  shore,  that  would 
shoot  arrows  at  them,  they  meant  to  fire  out  of  the  barge  a  great 
deal  better  than  was  sent  at  them ;  and  when  they  find  that  instead 
of  beiug  a  Cleopatra's  barge,  it  is  a  galley,  as  it  were,  and  that  they 
are  galley-slaves,  they  are  despondent.  It  is  the  despondency  of 
disappointed  expectation. 

The  dispersion  of  these  illusions  destroys  all  that  they  stood  on ; 
and  yet,  at  that,  it  is  far  better.  There  is  many  a  man  who  is  much 
nearer  the  kingdom  of  God  at  the  point  of  discouragement  than  he 
was  at  the  point  of  hope.  Tlie  point  of  hope  was  the  point  of  mis- 
conception ;  and,  when  the  illusion  is  dispersed,  though  it  be  hard 
to  bear,  and  they  are  utterly  discouraged  for  the  moment,  this  dis- 
couragement is  more  wholesome  than  was  their  hopefulness,  because 
it  is  nearer  to  the  truth,  and  nearer  to  that  life  in  which  divine  in- 
fluences are  accustomed  to  act  upon  the  human  soul. 

2,  There  are  those  who  begin  a  religious  life  upon  the  nourish- 
ment abundantly  »upplied  to  them  in  the  peculiar  circumstances  in 
which  they  are  born,  but  who  have  only  a  slender  capacity  for  sup- 
plying themselves  with  nourishment.  They  lack  that  motive  force 
which  makes  religion,  and  that  inspiration  which  gives  tliem  vital 
courage.  When  men  are  born  into  the  kingdom,  and  are  drawn 
into  the  church  of  Christ,  they  are  surrounded  by  anxious  friends. 
They  come  in,  it  may  be,  in  times  of  general  religious  interest,  in 
w^hich  meetings  are  set  for  the  very  purpose  of  winning  them,  as 
furnaces  are  set  to  smelt  the  stubborn  ore.  They  are  visited  from 
day  to  day ;  they  are  anxiously  instructed ;  they  find  themselves  the 
subjects  of  pi'ayers,  and  hymns,  and  exhoi'tations,  and  social  excite- 
ments. Whatever  they  need,  a  thousand  times  more  than  they  have 
been  accustomed  to  receive,  is  fed  to  them.  But  by  and  by  these 
things  die  away  from  them.  Being  harvested  and  safely  housed, 
they  are  now  expected  to  earn  their  living  like  children  that  at  first 
were  fed  from  the  mother's  bosom,  but  that  now  are  so  fir  gi'own 
that  the  parents  say  to  them,  "  You  must  earn  your  living,"  and 
that,  though  they  were  very  happy  so  long  as  they  were  fed,  are  not 
so  happy  when  they  begin  to  earn  their  own  food. 

There  is  no  one  thing  in  whicli  there  are  greater  differences  be- 
tween men  than  in  the  power  of  furnishing  spiritual  food  to  one's 
self  Some  men  can  read  the  word  of  God  and  derive  from  it  in- 
stant knowledge.  Other  men  read  it,  and  it  is  a  blank  book  to  them. 
Some  men  can  find  communion  with  God  in  prayer.  Other  men  find 
it  difficult  to  pray  at  all.  The  power  of  raising  up  by  thought,  or 
will,  or  emotion,  moral  food  for  the  soul,  is  very  different  in  different 


370  DISCOURAGEMENTS  AND  COMFORTS 

persons.  Those  who  are  slenderly  endowed  in  this  resjDect,  find,  as 
soon  as  they  begin  to  live  a  Christian  life  for  themselves,  that  it  is 
verydulL  All  the  joys  that  they  had  seem  to  have  gone;  the  reality 
that  they  saw  has  disappeared  ;  their  earnestness  flags  ;  they  begin 
to  think  that  they  have  made  a  mistake ;  they  suspect  that  they  are 
not  among  those  who  are  born  again,  or  that  religion  itself  is  bnt  an 
illusion.  And  discouragem'eut  supervenes  upon  their  former  high 
state  of  joy. 

It  is  for  such  persons  that  the  external  routine  of  church  duties  is 

'    eculiarly  useful.     If  they  could  be  held  to  some  set,  stated  exercises 

allied  to  religion,  they  would  find  themselves,  both  by  the  regularity 

of  these  exercises  and  by  their  routine  nature,  to  be  greatly  sustained 

and  helped.     For  they  are  persons  that  are  living  upon  a  low  plane. 

It  is  here  that  the  argument  for  ritualism  comes  nearest  to  being 
solid.  It  is  true,  if  persons  who  have  a  slender  intellectual,  ori- 
ginating power,  and  Avho  are  not  fruitful  in  their  moral  nature,  can 
have  their  senses  fed,  can  find  something  to  see  and  to  touch,  and 
can  have  wdtli  every  hour  a  regulation  prayer,  with  every  stated  day 
and  season  of  the  year  a  regulation  observance,  and  with  certain 
colors  and  forms  certain  associations,  that  they  find  themselves  very 
much  helped.  Here  is  the  point  where  ritualism — a  system  of  sym- 
bolical images  and  high  services — has  a  justifying  ground  and  reason. 
The  only  criticism  of  it  is,  that  men  claim-  that  it  is  divine,  while 
other  forms  are  human  ;  whereas,  it  is  the  most  utter  of  human  in- 
ventions. It  is  the  most  absolutely  artificial  association  of  ideas  in  ■ 
connection  with  things  that  ever  was  thought  of.  It  is  as  far  re- 
moved  from  divinity  as  any  thing  can  possibly  be.  Not  the  nurse's 
stories  by  which  she  seeks  to  teach  tlie  child,  are  further  removed 
from  inspiration  than  are  the  ritualistic  services  of  churches  from 
being  designed  and  appointed  of  God  to  accomplish  a  certain  woi-k. 
They  are  human  services.  They  are  perfectly  jsermissible,  and  are, 
as  I  shall  show,  within  a  limited  sphere,  useful,  or  may  become  so  ; 
but  they  are  in  no  sense  divine. 

Their  fault,  next  to  their  arrogant  claim  to  divinity,  is,  that  they 
help  the  present  want  at  the  expense  of  the  future.  They  tend  to  keep 
men  children,  and  treat  them  all  their  lives  long  as  children.  They 
are  the  very  devices  of  absolute  governments,  which,  in  order  to  make 
their  subjects  easy  to  be  governed,  keep  them  so  low  in  intelligence 
and  so  low  in  capacity  that  they  have  not  power  to  rise  up  and  vex 
their  rulers.  They  lower  the  tone  of  manhood,  in  order  to  make 
men  manageable,  under  despotic  governments  ;  and  under  Christian  • 
governments  they  lower  the  tone  of  conscience  and  of  the  moral 
life,  and  fail  to  supply  men  with  spiritual  nourishment.  In  the 
earlier  stages  of  religious  experience,  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  taste,  the 


..._ 


m  CHBISTIAN  LIFE.  371 

imagination,  fitly  help  those  that  can  not  help  themselves.  The 
mistake  is,  that  they  keep  on  helping  them.  It  Avould  be  just  as  wise 
to  keep  a  child  in  the  spelling-book  because  spelling  must  precede 
reading,  or  to  keep  a  child  in  children's  dresses  because  they  fit 
children,  as  to  insist  upon  a  man's  confining  himself  to  external 
religious  observances  because  they  are  best  adapted  to  the  first  steps 
of  a  Christian  life.  There  is  a  brief  period  in  the  history  of  some 
persons,  in  which  images,  symbols,  and  services,  devised  with  taste 
and  imagination,  inspire  their  inward  life,  and  help  them  ;  but  all 
such  instrumentalities  should  be  so  graduated  as  to  set  men  forward 
to  that  position  in  which  they  shall  help  themselves,  and  not  rely 
upon  help  from  without ;  in  which  they  shall  have  their  spiritual  life 
supplied  directly  from  God,  and  not  be  forever  dependent  upon  its 
being  supplied  from  some  external  source,  through  the  senses. 

If  it  were  an  infant  arrangement,  for  certain  kinds  of  beginnings, 
to  be  soon  dropped,  sending  forward  its  subject  to  higher  realms, 
no  longer  sensuous,  there  would  be  some  justifying  reason  in  it ;  but 
it  is  not  so.  And  yet  a  claim  is  made  for  this  system  as  one  of  emi- 
nent supernaturality — a  system  which  is  based  on  the  senses,  which 
feeds  the  soul  through  the  senses,  which  does  nothing  except  through 
the  sensuous  nature,  and  which  attaches  to  forms  of  matter  certain 
moral  ideas  or  associations,  and  calls  these  imaginations  supernatural. 
It  claims  to  be  more  eminently  supernatural  than  those  systems 
which  are  founded  on  the  original  laws  of  nature,  and  upon  habits 
of  rational  instruction ;  but  it  is  in  reality  far  less  supernatural  than 
they  are,  inasmuch  as  it  only  succeeds  in  substituting  the  imagina- 
tion for  supernaturality. 

The  great  end  of  the  Gospel  is  to  make  self-sustaining  men  ;  to 
take  men  at  the  point  of  animalism,  or  a  little  above  it,  and,  by 
using  all  instruments  and  methods  of  instruction,  carry  tliem  as 
rapidly  as  possible  up  to  that  state  in  which  they  shall  live,  not  by 
the  senses  at  all,  but  by  the  spirit;  not  by  any  thing  lower  than 
faith  and  hope  and  the  inward  vision  of  God.  Every  man  should 
derive  his  food  from  tliis  higher  relation  to  God.  Feed  him  through 
the  body,  rather  than  let  him  die  ;  but  do  not  keep  him  on  food 
supplied  through  the  senses.  Carry  him  up  so  that  higher  mouths 
and  nobler  appetites  shall  be  developed.  Let  the  cliildhood  state 
drop  from  him.  Ritualistic  instruction,  in  so  far  as  it  is  good  for 
any  thing,  is  good  for  the  childhood  state ;  and  all  ritualistic  insti'uo- 
tion  that  is  carried  beyond  that  makes  babies  out  of  men. 

The  discouragement  of  all  these  is  just  the  same  in  kind  as  that 
of  the  multitudes  of  followers  who  came  after  Christ.  It  tends  to 
make  men  self-indulgent.  It  works  in  them  and  for  them ;  but  does 
not  develop  in  them  a  self-reliant  nature.     It  does  not  make  them 


h 


372  D'^SCGUBAGEMENTS  AND  C0MF0BT8 

masters  of  themsel  '^e.',  nor  of  their  circumstances.  It  takes  them  as 
children,  feeds  them  as  children,  and  keeps  tlieni  as  children.  There- 
fore, when  they  come  U  5o  ■?nj  thing  for  themselves,  they  have  no  prac- 
tical experience  to  guide  tl  em.  They  are  like  rich  men's  boys  who  have 
been  dealt  with  so  kindlj  ancv  tenderly  in  the  fiimily,  that  they  have 
grown  up  without  having  had  iny  contact  with  the  World,  and  without 
a  knowledge  of  any  trade  oi  business ;  so  that  if  the  father  fails,  as 
happens  ninety-nine  times  in  a  I-undred,  they  are  left  without  any 
means  of  support.  The  mo?t  wcvthle.'is  of  all  persons  are  these  lily- 
handed  boys  who  have  been  brou^-hl  up  without  being  taught  to  do 
any  thing  for  themselves.  We  knov  ihis  is  so,  and  recognize  it  ii 
social  matters  ;  but  it  is  precisely  Avhax.  m.T.nj^  churches  attempt  to  dc 
by  men.  Tliey  bring. them  into  a  clmrcb,  \'ln:re  there  is  a  priest  tc 
think  for  them,  and  pray  for  them,  and  preach  i>r  vhem ;  and  all  is  don^ 
for  them,  so  that  if  they  are  thrown  out  into  th^.  r/orld  where  thert* 
is  no  priest,  and  no  Sunday,  and  no  church,  and  ncbcd)  to  do  any  thinp- 
for  them,  they  are  helpless  and  miserable.  Never  ha,  ing  teen  taught 
to  stand  on  their  own  feet,  they  crijjple  down  at  tht  h.'st  moment. 

It  is  wise  and  proper  in  an  enemy's  country,  to  uso  fc^'t.^  to  drill 
men  in  ;  but  no  man  is  fit  for  any  thing,  as  a  soldier,  if  hv^  can  no^. 
stand  out  on  the  open  plain  and  take  fight  in  a  manly  way.  js.n<?  w*" 
are  perfectly  willing  that  there  shall  be  priests,  and  robes,  and  ss'nts' 
days,  and  forms,  and  ceremonies,  and  various  services,  if  men  ■v%  il^ 
only  admit,  while  they  are  using  them,  that  they  were  humanly  devisod 
and  that  there  is  no  more  divinity  in  them  than  in  any  other  happy 
hit  in  an  educational  scheme — than  in  the  blackboards,  the  globes, 
the  orrery,  or  any  other  apparatus  of  an  academy  or  school.  They 
are  divine  in  the  sense  that  God  inspires  all  men  in  their  higher 
faculties.  And  I  have  no  objection  to  the  things  themselves.  What 
I  object  to  is,  that  they  undertake  to  supplant  the  very  fundamental 
idea  of  the  Bible — namely,  the  forging  of  men  out  of  weakness  into 
strength,  and  out  of  childhood  into  manhood.  This  they  can  not  do. 
They  never  did  and  never  will  do  it. 

Where  men  are  so  discouraged,  they  are  precisely  like  those  who 
came  to  Christ.  The  woman  of  Samariasaid,  in  answer  to  his  instruc- 
tion, "  Give  me  this  water  " — that  is,  the  living  water — "  that  I  come 
not  hitherto  draw."  She  did  not  want  to  draw  the  water,  but  wanted 
to  have  it  drawn  for  her,  all  of  it,  and  all  the  time.  Doubtless  many 
of  the  men  who  ate  the  loaves  and  fishes  prayed  with  a  Avill  that  part 
of  the  Lord's  prayer  which  says,  "  Give  ns  this  day  our  daily  bread." 
They  did  not  want  to  earn  their  living,  but  wanted  to  be  fed.  And 
not  a  few  go  into  the  church  to  be  fed  through  the  senses.  That 
which  you  get  through  the  senses  may  be  good  enough  for  a  start ; 
but  the  quicker  you  leave  the  senses  behind,  the  better.     If  you  de- 


7iV  CURISTIAN  ' LIFE.  373 

pend  upon  them  long,  that  is  evidence  that  you  are  abusing  and  mis- 
using them. 

3.  Men  suffer  discouragements  arising  from  the  misconception  of 
the  relations  of  joy  to  the  Christian  life.  They  think  wliile  they 
are  joyful  that  they  are  growing,  and  when  they  are  not  joyful  that 
they  are  going  behindhand.  But  pain  is  a  far  more  growing  element 
than  joy.  Sunshine  is  not  more  indispensable  to  harvests  than  rains 
and  cloudy  days.  And  in  the  Christian  life  the  yoke  and  the  burden 
are  eminently  profitable  to  men.  If  there  be  an  impression  that  God 
is  a  God  of  joy,  and  that  all  those  who  are  truly  born  into  the  Chris- 
tian life  become  champagne-like,  effervesce,  as  it  were,  then  I  do  not 
wonder  that  m?en  are  discouraged.  But  I  hold  that,  thougli  the 
Christian  life  is  triumphant  and  joyful,  no  mortal  man  can  ever  at- 
tain to  the  conditions  which  are  prescribed  as  the  ends  of  our  being, 
by  a  mere  course  of  joy. 

Hei-e  is  an  old-fishioned  sitting-room  and  kitchen,  and  an  old- 
fashioned  fire-place.  On  one  side  the  old  grand fatlier  and  grand- 
mother sit  serenely,  and  on  the  other  side  the  father  and  motlier,  of 
a  long  winter  evening.  The  children  are  scattered  here  and  there 
about  the  room,  and,  following  the  example  of  their  betters,  they 
work ;  and  they  interlace  work  with  play,  occasionally  touching  the 
cradle  to  rock  the  babe.  The  fire  crackles,  and  the  flame  roars  ;  and 
when  the  log  breaks  in  two  and  falls  down,  flocks  of  fiery  -birds  rush 
up  the  chimney,  and  the  imagination  of  the  most  unpoetic  child  is 
awakened  by  the  scene.  Oh  !  how  joyful  it  is  to  have  such  a  fire  as 
this. 

It  was  a  year  ago  that  the  father  and  the  boys,  on  the  mountain- 
side, in  the  deep  woods,  cut  that  very  log.  The  cold  wind  exercised 
them  ;  and  they  exercised  to  defeat  the  wind.  Great  logs  they  hewed 
from  the  parent  stock,  and  loaded  on  the  sled  ;  and  these  were  drawn 
throngh  the  cumbering  snow  by  the  slow-moving  oxen,  and  were 
■  stacked  up  in  the  door-yard.  And  then  came  the  cutting  and 
splitting  with  the  heavy,  sounding  ax.  And  after  a  whole  year, 
during  which  that  wood  has  been  more  or  less  subject  to  this  prepa- 
ration, the  winter  comes,  and  the  wood  is  reduced  to  flame  and  sparks. 
And  I  say  that  the  history  of  this  wood  begins  at  the  time  when  it 
is  cut  on  the  mountain-side,  and  goes  on  clear  down  to  the  period 
when  it  burns  in  the  fire-place. 

But  there  are  many  persons  who  want  the  wood  without  having 
to  hew  it.  They  want  to  sit  by  the  great  fire-place,  in  the  midst  of 
the  family;  but  they  do  not  want  to  go  to  the  mountain-side  and  cut 
the  timber,  and  haul  it  home,  and  render  it  fit  for  the  fire-place.  They 
do  not  even  want  the  labor  of  bringing  it  into  the  house. 

There  are  many  who  think  that  religion  is  an  invitation  to  go  into 


374  DISCOUBAGEMENTS  AND  COMFORTS 

the  house  and  sit  before  a  great  fire  that  has  been  builded  for  thein. 
Religion  is  an  invitation  to  more  than  that.  If  it  is  an  invitation  to 
one  thing,  it  is  an  invitation  to  the  other.  If  it  is  an  invitation  to 
the  flame  and  the  spark,  it  is  also  an  invitation  to  the  felling,  hauling, 
and  preparing  of  the  fuel.  And  is  not  this  rational  ?  Is  not  this  the 
way  to  make  true  and  wholesome  natures  ?  I  ask  you  whether 
a  man  is  a  man  that  would  sit  by  a  fire  all  day?  Is  that  your  idea 
of  manhood  ?  Would  you  be  such  a  man  ? — I  mean  outside  of  the 
church  !  You  would  in  the  church.  There  you  would  like  to  be 
tickled,  -and  lifted  up,  and  patted.  There  you  would  like  to  see 
visions,  and  have  joys  supernal,  and  all  manner  of  purflings  of  poetry, 
and  what  not.  It  is  right  for  you  to  wish  these  things  ;  but  are  you 
willing  to  labor  for  the  fuel  without  which  they  can  not  be  had  ? 
Are  you  willing  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  procure  the  cause  of 
that  joy  which  it  is  right  for  you  to  have  in  the  sanctuary  ?  .If  not, 
then  your  idea  of  manhood  must  inevitably  lead  you  to  discourage- 
ment. 

Whatever  may  be  the  case  with  priests  here,  God  does  not  intend 
to  have  any  body  but  men  in  Christ  Jesus  there.  The  church  may 
be  filled  with  those  who  are  neither  men  nor  women,  who  are  neitlier 
freemen  nor  slaves,  who  are  neuters;  but  there  ai-e  no  such  beings  in 
heaven.  Any  body  that  is  saved  will  enter  into  the  full  j^roportion 
of  manhood.  In  the  heavenly  church  there  will  be  vigor  and  use  of 
the  understanding  ;  there  will  be  richness  in  the  moral  sense ;  there 
will  be  vitality  in  the  Avill ;  there  will  be  energy  in  the  action  of  all  the 
parts  of  the  mind ;  there  will  be  men  Avho  can  plan,  execute,  endure, 
and  accomplish.  And  that  church  is  nearest  the  heavenly  church 
which  brings  men  up  with  most  of  these  qualities,  or  with  these 
qualities  the  most  fully  developed.  That  religion  is  nearest  the  true 
idea  which  has  the  greatest  tendency  to  develop  these  qualities.  I 
do  not  revile  joy ;  but  I  say  to  any  body  who  wants  it.  Earn  it,  and 
then  you  shall  be  joyful.  Do  not  follow  the  example  of  those  who 
do  nothing,  and  wait  to  be  happy. 

How  generally  is  it  the  impression  that  religion  is  just  like  the 
capital  which  the  father  gives  to  his  boy  at  twenty-one  !  A  man 
hands  his  son  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  says,  "  With  this  I  set  you 
up  in  business.  Go  and  thrive."  The  son  takes  the  money  and  goes 
and  operates  with  it.  And  men  seetn  to  think,  when  God  puts  reli- 
gion into  their  soul,  that  it  is  like  money,  and  that  he  says  to  them, 
"  This  is  your  capital ;  go  and  work  with  it."  But  there  is  no  such 
religion  as  that.  A  man  may  put  yeast  into  a  measure  of  meal ;  but 
God  never  puts  religion  into  a  man.  Religion  is  nothing  but  the 
way  in  which  men  think,  plan,  act,  and  continue  to  act.  We  are 
not   to  be  surprised  if  men  are  discournged,  whose  conception  of 


m  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  375 

religion  is,  that  it  is  a  joyful  state;  for  all  the  experiences  of  wrest 
ling  and  endurance,  by  which  raanhood  is  wrought  out  in  men,  give 
the  lie  to  that  notion. 

4.  There  are  discouragements  arising  from  conflicts  and  rivalries 
between  lawful  secular  occupations  and  religious  emotions.  Our 
worldly  occupations  and  our  religious  life  are  only  two  names  for  one 
thing.  They  are  parts  of  our  life,  and  never  should  be  separated. 
Our  daily  business  should  be  a  part  of  our  daily  religion,  and  our 
daily  religion  should  also  be  a  part  of  our  daily  business.  When 
both  of  them  are  carried  along  together,  they  never  interfere.  We 
never  should,  therefore,  antagonize  them  in  our  thoughts.  We  nevei 
should  set  them  one  over  against  the  other,  to  wfftcli  and  be  jealous 
of  each  other.  The  spiritual  element  is  to  the  practical  what  the 
dew,  and  rain,  and  sunlight  are  to  the  growing  field  of  corn.  In  the 
closet  we  cleanse  and  inspire  the  soul ;  but  in  our  business  we  use  that 
strength  which  we  have  gained  by  this  insjDiring  and  cleansing.  Our 
whole  life  is  a  religious  life.  The  experiences  of  insi^iration  may  be 
sjjiritual  in  the  closet ;  but  the  real  life  of  every  man  is  that  into 
which  he  puts  his  energy,  his  strength,  his  vitality,  his  jjower.  We 
know  that  a  man  puts  that  into  his  trade,  into  his  shop,  into  his 
studio,  into  his  study,  into  the  battle-field,  or  into  the  ofiice.  Wher- 
ever men  are,  there  they  ought  to  put  their  power  of  understanding, 
their  power  of  sentiment,  their  power  of  feeling,  their  power  of 
planning  and  execution.  That  is  the  thing  for  a  Christian  man  to  do. 
And  the  kind  of  power  which  he  has,  and  the  moral  quality  of  it,  de- 
pend upon  the  influence  of  the  interior  and  invisible  life. 

The  outward  life  is  to  the  inward  very  much  what  the  chaff  is  to 
the  wheat.  In  the  harvest-day  the  chaff  is  good  for  nothing  ;  and  so, 
when  men  are  grown  up,  the  nurse  is  good  for  nothing.  But  what 
would  the  baby  come  to,  if  it  were  not  for  the  nui-se  ?  When  the 
wheat  is  growing,  the  chaff  is  a  bosom  full  of  milk  from  which  the 
little  baby  kernels  suck  their  food  ;  but  when  the  wheat  is  grown,  the 
chaff  dries  up,  because  its  function  is  gone.  And  so  the  husk  of  corn 
— that  stateliest  grain  that  grows  on  the  face  of  the  globe — all  through 
July  and  August  is  the  provider  of  the  food  on  which  the  kernels 
live ;  but  when  the  corn  is  ripe,  the  husk  is  no  longer  of  any  use. 
And  outside  business  in  life,  looked  at  in  connection  with  the  final 
results  of  Christian  character,  may  seem  very  poor ;  it  may  be  re- 
garded as  like  chaff  and  husks ;  but  as  in  the  order  of  nature,  chaff 
and  husks  feed  the  grain,  so  in  the  order  of  God's  moral  providence, 
the  outside  life  helps  the  inside  life. 

How  could  a  man  be  patient  if  there  were  not  teasing  children 
around  him  in  the  family,  or  teasing  clerks  or  customers  in  the  store, 
or  teasing  neighbors  in  the  street  ?     If  every  thing  went  smooth  in 


376  DISCO UR AG EME]!fTS  AND  COMFORTS 

business  and  in  social  intercourse,  what  would  a  man  have  to  sharpen 
himself  on  ?  When  a  man  would  strengthen  his  arm,  he  draws 
heavy  weights  in  the  gymnasium,  or  throws  the  javelin,  or  runs,  or 
wrestles.  He  does  things  that  are  hard  to  do,  and  that'  makes  him 
Btrong. 

God  says  to  men  on  the  farm,  in  the  store,  on  the  ship,  everywhere 
in  life,  "  Be  diligent  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit."  Those  two 
things  ai*e  put  so  near  together  in  the  Bible  that  nobody  can  get 
them  aj)art.  No  wedge  can  drive  them  asunder.  But  for  the  most 
part  men  say,  "  My  business  is  there,  and  my  religion  is  here."  They 
seek  to  divide  them.  When  they  go  into  the  closet  to  pray,  they 
feel,  "  I  have  had  a  vision  of  God  and  of  heaven — oh  !  that  I  could 
keep  it  all  day !"  You  would  not  do  half  so  well  in  business  if  you 
kept  it  as  you  would  if  you  lost  it. 

Do  you  suj^pose  that  when  a  man  has  said  "  Good-by  "  to  his  dear 
wife,  and  his  chubby  little  children,  that  are  more  to  him  than  the 
blood  in  his  own  veins,  and  gone  to  his  shop,  he  feels  that  he 
must  think  of  his  family  all  day  long,  instead  of  thinking  of  wheels, 
and  springs,  and  belts,  and  levers,  and  his  business  ?  If  he  under- 
takes to  think  of  his  wife  and  children,  every  time  one  of  them  comes 
up  to  his  mind,  a  thread  snaps,  and  he  betrays  his  trust.  It  is  enough 
that  he  has  a  latent  love  which  lies  like  a  bird  on  its  nest,  and  hatches 
singing  joys.  He  does  not  care  if  he  does  not  think  of  them  once  dur- 
ing the  Avhole  day ;  for  he  knows  that  the  fountain  will  burst  out  and 
bubble  up  when  the  evening  comes. 

Tell  me  that  men  work  for  money !  So  they  do.  Tell  me  that 
they  engage  in  the  rivalries  of  the  street !  .  So  they  do.  But  many 
men  are  goaded  to  dishonesty  by  the  love  which  they  bear  to  those 
whom  they  love  at  home,  and  not  because  they  love  money  so  much. 
Home  is  the  fountain  that  inspires  them.  And  yet  you  know  how, 
in  spite  of  the  inspiration  of  a  loving  home,  men  forget,  for  the 
time  being,  that  home,  and  all  that  it  contains,  in  the  struggle 
that  they  are  making  with  the  world,  and  only  at  intervals  come 
back  to  the  memory  of  that  which  is  most  dear  to  them.  And  that 
is  enough. 

Now,  let  a  man  have  a  vision  of  God  and  heaven.  It  does  not 
follow  that  all  day  long  he  should  go  thinking  of  the  catechism,  and 
religion,  and  prayer.  If  a  man  has  leisure,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  for 
him  to  sit  down,  as  it  were,  under  the  shadow  of  a  great  religious 
truth,  as  at  midday  one  sits  down  by  a  fountain  to  take  his  nooning; 
but  do  by  God  as  you  do  by  those  that  you  knoAV  you  love  on  earth. 
Believe  that  love  is  a  unit,  and  that  that  part  which  is  hidden,  and 
which  is  the  inspiring  part,  and  which  gives  you  strength  for  the 
other  parts,  is  just  as  really  a  part  of  your  religious  life  as  any  other, 


m  CEmSTIAW  LIFE.  377 

and  that,  though  it  may  not  manifest  itself  in  the  sphere  of  duty  and 
labor,  it  is  no  less  influential. 

Let  no  man  say,  tlien,  "  Oh  !  if  I  had  not  my  store,  I  could  be 
such  a  good  Christian  !"  You  would  not  be  half  so  good  a  Christian 
as  you  are  now.  Let  no  man  say,  "  Oh  !  if  I  had  not  my  school;  if 
I  was  a  minister,  and  could  choose  my  own  hours,  and  read  those 
blessed  books  of  tlieology,  (I  guess  you  never  read  any  of  them!) 
how  good  I  sliould  be  !"  Do  you,  then,  think  tliat  ministers  are  so 
much  better  than  otiier  people?  Tliey  are  men  of  like  passions  with 
their  fellows.  They  are  subject  to  pride.  They  are  easily  tempted 
to  anger  and  jealousy.  Tliey  are  liable  to  faults  of  a  thousand  kinds. 
Having  leisure  to  think  about  a  religious  life  docs  not  make  men  any 
better  than  working  out  their  salvation  in  the  sphere  of  labor  to 
which  they  are  called.  A  man  can  be  a  good  Christian,^  and  have  a 
store  or  factory  under  his  control,  or  an  army  on  his  hands.  What- 
ever duty  a  man  is  called  to,  whether  it  be  in  the  school,  or  in  the 
shop,  or  in  the  mine,  or  on  the  ship,  it  is  his  business  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian in  the  discharge  of  that  duty.  Wherever  a  man  may  be,  his 
whole  life  should  be  animated  by  religion.  A  true  man  is  not  what 
he  is  in  the  prayer-meeting,  nor  what  he  is  in  the  Sunday-school,  nor 
what  he  is  in  his  best  moments,  but  what  his  average  life  is,  in  all  his 
hours  put  together.  This  grand  average  tells  where  a  man  stands, 
and  how  much  of  a  Christian  he  is.  And  it  is  this  that  leads  to  dis- 
couragement ;  because  men  think  that  if  they  are  true  Christians  they 
ought  to  be  in  a  hymn  state,  a  psalm  state,  a  prayer  state,  all  the 
time.  I  do  not  think  so.  They  ought  to  be  in  a  state  such  that 
when,  in  the  providence  of  God,  it  is  fit  that  they  should  sing,  they 
will  be  ready  to  sing ;  but  you  might  as  well  say  that  a  man  ought 
to  be  in  a  state  to  dandle  his  babe  every  minute,  as  to  say  that  a  man 
6hould*always  be  in  an  active  religious  state  of  mind. 

The  father  is  a  surgeon,  and  has  a  very  trying  case.  For  an  hour 
he  has  stood  with  a  man's-  life  trembling  under  his  hand  ;  and  the 
difference  of  a  thought,  one  way  or  the  other,  would  have  been  the 
difference  of  the  excision  of  an  artery  or  a  nerve  ;  and,  during  all  this 
time,  his  mind  and  body  have  been  undergoing  a  severe  strain ;  and 
do  you  say  that,  when  he  lays  down  his  instruments,  and  the  patient 
has  been  rolled  upon  the  bed,  he  ought  to  go  right  out  from  the 
midst  of  blood,  and  scalpels,  and  saws,  and  sponges,  and  commence 
dandling  his  Babe  ?  Is  there  no  fitness  of  times  ?  Do  you  say  that 
a  man  should  run  from  one  thing  right  to  another,  as  if  there  were  no 
such  thing  as  perpendictdar  distances  between  them?  How  little 
common  sense  men  have  in  religion !  How  wise  men  are  in  the  ad- 
justment of  things  outside  of  religion  !  and  how  foolish  they  are  in  the 
adjustment  of  things  in  religion  ! 


378  DISCOURAOEMEN'TS  AND  COMFORTS 

I  have  heard  men  say  that  a  man  ought  to  live  so  as  to  be  pre- 
pared, at  dny  moment,  to  give  up  his  account  to  God ;  and  that  he 
ought  never  to  do  any  thing  which  would  not  be  congruous  with  the 
tremendous  scenes  of  the  judgment-day.  I  hold  the  great  truth  that  a 
man  should  always  be  prepared  to  die ;  but  I  do  not  think  that  truth 
is  at  all  the  same  as  to  say  that  every  one  of  the  experiences  M'hich 
are  proper  to  the  earth-state  would  be  congruous  with  a  state  tran- 
scendently  different  from  the  earth-state.  Do  you  suppose  that  if  a 
man  was  sick,  and  his  physician  had  prescribed  tartar  emetic,  and 
it  had  just  begun  to  work,  he  would  be  in  an  eminent  state  in  which 
to  appear  at  the  judgment-seat  ?  Is  there  any  sin  in  not  being  in 
such  a  state?  There  are  many  things  that  are  proj^er  to  one  condi- 
tion, which  would  not  be  congruous  with  another  condition.  Any 
mode  of  criticism,  therefore,  which  is  based  on  the  principle  that  we 
are  to  transfer  things  that  are  proper  to  one  relation  to  another 
relation  that  is  totally  different ;  any  mode  of  criticism  which  rubs 
out  the  interval,  and  the  necessity  of  modification,  is  impertinent  and 
absurd. 

I  saw  a  criticism  published  in  the  Union^  and  copied  from  Tlie 
Independent^  of  my  venerable  and  most  excellent  brother.  Dr.  Finney, 
on  the  meeting  of  the  Congregational  Union,  held  in  Brooklyn,  as 
being  one  of  mirth,  and  of  great  social  festivity  and  joy.  He  says, 
"  Would  any  man,  after  seeing  at  that  meeting  the  men  who  partici- 
pated in  it,  go  to  them  and  ask  them  how  he  might  be  saved  ? 
Would  any  man,  from  what  he  heard  there,  be  led  to  repent  of  his 
sins  ?" 

When  the  mother,  after  the  morning  light  has  dawned,  has  waked 
her  babe,  and  the  little  fellow  has  crept  out  of  his  crib,  and  she  has 
strip2)ed  him  bare,  and  j)ut  him  in  the  bath  ;  and  when,  after  sport- 
ing in  the  water,  (she  looking  on  in  a  kind  of  angelic  ecstasy,)  he 
springs  out  of  the  tub,  and  runs,  and  she  pursues  tlie  little  wretch 
round  and  round  the  room,  is  any  thing  more  beautiful !  But  suppose 
brother  Finney,  beholding  the  scene,  should  say,  "Was  there  any 
thing  in  that  woman's  conduct  which  Avould  lead  a  person  to  go  to 
her  to  ask  for  knowledge  as  to  ho-w^to  save  his  soul?"  Must  not  a 
man  do  any  thing  except  that  which  would  lead  men  to  come  to  him 
for  advice  about  the  salvation  of  their  souls  ?  Is  that  the  narrowness 
of  criticism  which  we  are  to  find  in  old  men  ?  I  hold  that  this  is  not 
the  spirit  of  the  Bible.  It  is  not  common  sense.  It  is  not  wise.  1 
hold  that  religion  permits,  through  an  infinite  scale,  almost,  graded 
duties,  graded  peculiarities,  and  graded  proprieties.  There  are  many 
things  connected  with  our  lower  nature — our  social  and  physical  na- 
ture— which  are  perfectly  proper,  but  which  we  would  not  think  of 
putting  along-side  of  our  spiritual  nature.     There  are  a  thousand 


m  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  379 

things  which  it  is  right  for  a  man  to  do  through  the  day,  which  would 
be  very  incongruous  in  that  twilight-hour  which  afforded  the  first 
and  last  opportunity  for  a  lover  to  breathe  his  love.  Thei'e  are  some 
things  that  want  separateness,  that  want  a  special  place  and  time ; 
and  we  do  not  think,  because  their  intrusion,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, would  be  incongruous,  that  they  are  wrong. 

There  is  wanting  a  large  notion  of  the  proprieties  of  a  spiritual 
and  religious  life.  There  is  a  mistaken  idea  that  a  man's  religion  is 
that  which  he  exj^eriences  when  he  thinks  of  God  and  heaven,  and  is 
in  the  closet,  and  in  a  spiritual  state  ;  that  that  is  the  whole  of  it ; 
and  that  there  is  an  antagonism  between  this  and  the  outward  life 
in  which  the  man  lives.  But  'I  hold  that  they  are  both  one  ;  that 
they  are  the  two  parts  of  the  same  thing  ;  and  that  there  ought  to 
be  no  .discouragement  because  your  worldly  life  is  very  strong.  I 
say,  pursue  it  in  the  amplitude  of  its  strength  ;  but  see  to  it  that 
you  have  also  a  spiritual  manhood  from  day  to  day,  that  shall  enable 
you  to  control  that  worldly  life,  instead  of  being  controlled  by  it. 
That  is  the  way  to  live  a  true  Christian  life. 

There  is  something  that  touches  the  imagination  of  people  in  the 
thought  of  a  minister's  dropping  down  dead  in  the  pulpit ;  but  I  do 
not  think  I  should  be  any  nearer  heaven  if  I  died  in  my  pulpit  than  if 
I  died  on  my  farm,  or  on  a  railroad  car,  or  on  a  vessel  at  sea.  Where 
the  soldier  is  fighting  his  king's  battle — that  is  the  place  for  him  to 
die.  Whatever  his  posture  may  be — whether  he  is  standing  with 
uplifted  hand  to  smite  the  enemy,  or  is  reclining  for  repose — that  is 
the  place.  Put  on  tlie  harness  that  God  has  given  you,  and  work  up 
to  your  strength,  and  let  the  Master  call  you  when  he  wants  you. 
Work  in  the  spirit  of  love,  and  hope,  and  faith,  and  trust.  Know 
your  immortality,  and  rejoice  in  it.  Give  your  liand  and  your  heart 
to  the  work  which  God's  providence  has  appointed  for  you  ;  and  un- 
derstand that  that  place  is  good  enough  to  die  in,  which  is  good 
enough  to  work  in  ;  and  that  that  work  is  good  enough  to  die  on, 
that  is  good  enough  to  live  on.  I  would  not  take  away  any  sanctity 
from  these  higher  states  ;  but  I  would  add  sanctity  to  the  lower  ele- 
ments of  life. 

5.  A  large  element  of  discouragement  arises  in  minds  of  fine  tem- 
per, on  account  of  the  discrepancy  which  must  always  exist  between 
ideality  and  practical  reality.  There  will  always  be  a  cliasm  between 
duty  and  performance.  The  higher  our  conception  of  life  is,  the 
harder  it  will  be  to  live  as  we  ought  to  live.  The  higher  our  conception 
of  justice  is,  the  harder  it  will  be  to  reach  it.  Therefore,  there  will 
always  be  a  large  valley  of  non-performance  of  known  duty.  The 
fact  is,  a  person  of  a  vivid  imagination  will  conceive  of  an  amount 


3 so  DISCOUBAGEMENTS  AND  C0MF0BT8 

of  duty  and   a  fineness  of  experience  wliich  it  would  be  impossible, 
except  by  a  tutoring  of  years  and  years,  to  meet. 

Do  not  you  suppose  that  RajDhael's  mind,  before  his  hand  was 
trained  to  paint,  painted  pictures  that  Avere  infinitely  more  beautiful 
tlian  any  that  his  hand  painted  ?  Mr.  Zundel  (as  he  is  not  present,  I 
will  tell  it)  once  said  to  me,  "  My  tunes,  when  I  think  of  them  first, 
are  a  great  deal  better  than  they  are  after  I  have  made  them,"  Tliat 
which  imagination  creates,  the  first  conception,  that  part  of  the  work 
which  the  mind  performs,  always  overleaps  the  possibility  of  execu- 
tion. And  no  man  that  has  a  finely  tempered  mind  ;  no  man  that  has 
a  sense  of  what  it  is  to  be  just,  and  true,  and  right,  and  noble,  and 
generous,  and  magnanimous  ;  no  man  that  has  a  conception  of  the 
finer  qualities  of  manhood,  and  judges  himself  by  that  conception — 
can  attain  to  his  ideal.  Every  such  man  will  find  that  his  performance 
lags  far  behind.  No  men  are  so  apt  to  be  discouraged  as  those  who 
are  living  far  up  along  the  scale.  They  judge  themselves  by  a  high 
ideal  of  life.  I  would  not  have  them  discouraged  finally  ;  but  it  does 
not  do  any  hurt  for  a  man  to  be  enough  discouraged  to  keep  down 
pride  and  vanity.  Discouragement  is  a  mephitic  gas  which,  if  long 
continued,  strikes  the  vital  parts,  and  destroys  life  ;  but  a  little  low- 
ering of  the  tone  of  a  man's  self-conceit,  in  this  way,  stands  in  the 
lieu  of  humility,  and  keeps  him  from  being  arrogant  and  over- 
weening. 

Men  are  discouraged,  frequently,  from  a  perception  of  the  weak- 
ness and  unfruitfulness  of  their  will-power — their  power  of  executing 
what  they  mean  to  do.  Men  resolve,  and  do  not  accomplish.  As  a 
boy  that  hunts  with  an  old  gun  that,  when  he  cocks  it,  will  remain 
cocked  only  as  long  as  he  holds  his  thumb  on  the  trigger,  gets  out  of 
patience ;  so  many  men  get  very  much  dis^iouraged  because  they  can 
not  hold  themselves  to  duty.  There  are -many  persons  who  in  the 
morning  mean  the  best  things,  and  resolve  the  best  thii]gs;  but  who 
at  night  say,  "I  have  not  done  one  of  the  things  that  I  meant  to  do." 
The  relation  between  the  power  of  tlie  will  and  the  thing  to  be  exe- 
cuted is  different  in  different  people.  I  have  often  said  that  moral  stam- 
ina lay  in  the  will  more  than  anywhere  else.  The  will  is  like  a 
rudder.  Some  ships  are  very  hard  to  steer,  and  some  are  very  easy. 
Some  you  can  hardly  turn  from  their  course,  and  some  you  can  set 
about  by  the  least  touch  of  the  wheel.  So  it  is  with  men.  And  they 
are  discouraged,  usually,  if  they  find  it  hard  to  direct  their  course 
aright,  because  they  think  it  is  owing  to  some  Avickedness  in  them. 
It  may  be  that  there  is  some  wickedness  in  them  ;  but,  after  all,  there 
is  a  great  difi"erence  between  one  man  and  another,  in  the  power  of 
carrying  out  a  resolution.  Some  men  never  resolve  any  thing  that 
they  can  not  execute ;  and  some  men  can  never  execute  any  thing 


i 


IN  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  381 

that  they  resolve.  And  these  last  say,  "  I  am  not  sincere ;  I  am  a  hypo- 
crite. I  pi'oraised  God  that  if  he  would  help  me,  I  would  do  such 
and  such  things  during  the  day ;  and  I  meant  to  ;  but  I  did  not. 
And  I  do  not  dare  to  pray  ;  I  do  not  dare  to  tell  God  the  same 
things  over  and  over,  while  I  continually  give  the  lie  to  my  words. 
I  proposed  right  ;  but  the  first  thing  I  knew,  something 
whisked  the  Avhole  thing  out  of  my  head.  I  was  honest  in  my  in- 
tentions ;  but  something  carried  me  in  the  wrong  direction."  And 
on  account  of  this  feebleness  of  will-power,  many  jjersons  are  dis- 
couraged. Nevertheless,  their  souls  must  be  saved.  They  must  go 
to  heaven  with  the  sailing  apparatus  which  God  has  given  them. 
And  when  the  last  keel  has  touched  the  heavenly  shore,  although  the 
first  and  swiftest,  that  outran  all  the  others,  may  be  the  best,  and  the 
next  one  may  be  the  next  best,  and  the  next  one  may  be  the  next  best ; 
yet  the  clumsiest  old  scow,  that  moved  slowly  and  had  to  be  steered 
bunglingly,  if  at  last  it  does  touch  the  shore,  shall  be  Avelcome.  And 
you  must  say,  "Lord  Jesus,  I  am  here,  and  that  is  all."  And  he  will 
say  to  you,  "  I  had  an  errand  to  be  performed  by  some  one  who 
should  cross  the  stormy  deep  in  just  such  a  structure  as  this.  That 
patience  and  j^ersevering  faith  which  you  have  manifested,  I  wanted 
worked  out.  You  have  accomplished  the  task  which  was  set  apart  for 
you.  It  was  the  very  thing  that  I  appointed  you  for.  Others  have 
beaten  you  in  speed,  but  there  is  no  other  that  shall  take  your 
Qrown."  Many  of  you  will  never  come  into  those  rapturous  states 
which  some  Christians  experience  ;  but  God  will  show  you  that 
there  were  problems  to  be  wrought  out  by  just  such  a  temperament 
as  yours,  and  by  just  such  a  position  in  life  as  yours.  And  he  says 
to  you,  "  Do  not  cast  away  your  confidence,  Avhich  has  great  reward 
in  it." 

Persevere,  and  wo'rk  manfully,  with  weakness  and  temptation,  in 
darkness  and  light,  and  you  will  reach  your  Heavenly  Father  soon. 
No  father  on  earth  was  ever  so  lenient  with  the  fiiults  of  his  boy  who 
wanted  Jio  do  right,  as  God  is  with  your  faults,  if  you  want  to  do 
right,  and  will  try  to  do  right.  In  a  little  time  you  will  know  that 
this  is  so. 

Not  to  mention  the  other  classes  of  discouragement,  I  remark,  in 
closing,  that  behind  and  within  all  our  personal  labor  is  our  God. 
We  ought  not  to  dismiss  from  our  minds  the  sense  of  self-dependence 
which  is  quite  necessary  to  us  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  no  man 
should  have  the  feeling,  which  almost  inevitably  leads  to  discourage- 
ment, that  there  is  nothing  else  but  himself.  'No  man  Avill  ever 
reach  heaven  that  does  not  himself  strive;  but  no  man  will  ever 
reach  heaven  simply  through  his  own  striving.     There  are  two  coor- 


382  DISCOUBAOEMENTS  AND   COMFORTS 

dinate  lives  ;  there  is  power  within  a  power ;  there  is  God  in  us  ; 
and  that  is  the  secret  of  the  power  by  which  we  are  saved. 

It  looks  as  though  the  pointers  of  a  watch  kept  time ;  but  is  it 
the  strength  of  the  pointers  that  carries  them  round  ?  No.  Down 
deep  below  there  is  the  coiled  spring  that  moves  the  wheel,  and,  in 
obedience,  the  pointers  move  and  register  the  time.  But  suppose 
the  pointers  were  taken  off?  Then  all  the  springs  in  the  world 
though  they  might  set  the  wheels  playing  round,  would  not  indicate 
the  time.  The  measuring  power  would  be  gone.  Both  of  them — 
the  spring  and  the  pointers — must  be  concurrently  adjusted  in  order 
to  keep  time. 

It  is  God  tliat  is  the  mighty  spring  within  us  ;  and  it  is  we  that 
on  the  great  dial  of  time,  are  moving  round  in  obedience  to  this, 
interior  force.  There  is,  behind  our  own  will,  and  within  our  own 
pui-poses,  the  divine  influence ;  and  this  truth  affords  a  ground 
whereon  we  may  comfort  ourselves  in  discouragement.  Blessed  is 
he  who  feels,  while  he  is  living  a  life  of  responsibility,  that  he  is 
living  a  greater  life  in  the  sphere  where  God  is.  Blessed  is  the  man 
who  feels,  while  he  is  working  out  his  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling,  that  God  is  more  responsible  for  his  salvation  than  he  is. 
Do  you  believe  the  best  child  that  was  ever  born  was  half  so  anxious 
to  grow  up  to  an  honorable  manhood  as  his  father  and  mother  were 
to  have  him  ?  And  do  you  suppose  that  the  best  Christian  is  so 
desii'ous  to  live  a  true  Christian  life  as  God  is  to  have  him  ? 

It  is  this  vitalizing  power  of  God  everywhere — God  in  heaven  ; 
God  on  earth  ;  God  in  nature  ;  God  in  society  ;  God  in  providence  ; 
God  in  grace  ;  God  in  all  the  working  of  things — it  is  this  that 
should  be  the  unfailing  resource  of  every  man  in  times  of  despon- 
dency. What  though  you  are  weak  ?  He  is  strong  enough.  What 
though  you  are  unworthy?  You  are  unworthy  children  in  the  hand 
of  infinite  Love.  What  though  you  be  ignorant  and  unseeing  ? 
God  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning.  And  when  you  said,  "Lord, 
I  give  my  soul  into  thy  care,"  and  he  took  it,  he  took  it  Jcnowing 
how  infirm  it  was.  You  never  will  spring  one  surprise  upon  God. 
You  never  will  be  worse  than  he  suspected  you  would  be.  You 
never  will  disappoint  him,  so  that  he  will  say,  "  If  I  had  foreseen,  I 
never  would  have  taken  you."  On  earth,  partners  and  friends  disap- 
point each  other ;  but  when  Christ  takes  a  man,  he  takes  him  with  a 
perfect  foresight.  Naked  and  open  are  we  before  him  with  whom 
we  have  to  do.  "Therefore,"  the  apostle  says,  "let  us  come  boldly 
to  the  throne  of  gi'ace,  that  Ave  may  obtain  mercy  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need,"  We  have  a  High-Priest  that  is  touched  with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  He  has  been  tempted  in  all  ])oints  like 
as  we  are.     Therefore  he  is  able  to  succor  those  that  are  tempted. 


m  CEBI8TIAN  LIFE.  383 

Let  your  hope  be  in  Christ.  Let  your  trust  be  in  God.  And  though 
your  faith  fail  for  a  moment,  like  Peter's  on  the  sea,  make  it  up  by 
holding  out  your  hands  to  Christ,  and  saying,  "  Lord,  save  me,  or  I 
perish." 

This,  which  is  true  of  our  individual  salvation,  is  true  of  other  re- 
lations in  life.  I  would  like  another  hour  to  show  that  teachers  ought 
not  to  be  discouraged,  either  for  the  individual  members  of  their 
class,  for  the  class,  or  for  the  school.  I  would  like  to  show  that 
ministers  ought  not  to  be  discouraged,  no  matter  what  their  work 
is ;  and  that  the  same  great  sources  of  consolation,  the  same  great 
laws  of  need  and  supply,  which  I  have  enumerated,  apply  to  the 
sphere  in  which  they  labor.  Parents  ought  not  to  be  discouraged. 
Philanthropists  ought  not  to  be  discouraged.  No  man  that  is  attempt- 
ing to  do  the  work  of  God,  no  man  that  is  attempting  to  mould  the 
world  according  to  the  divine  ideal,  need  to  be  discouraged.  Greater 
are  they  that  are  for  us  than  they  that  are  against  us.  And  if  our 
eyes  were  touched  of  God,  we  should  see  the  whole  heaven  to  be 
filled  with  angels.  All  day  and  all  night,  invisible  influences  multi- 
ply. And  the  great  tides  above,  of  sweet  influences,  of  inspiration, 
and  of  divine  blessedness — the  great  aerial  currents — are  mightier 
than  the  gulf-stream  and  the  invisible  currents  of  the  ocean.  You 
stand  in  the  midst  of  a  system  which  has  God  for  its  originator ; 
which  has  Jesus  Christ  for  its  companionship  ;  which  has  the  Holy 
Spirit  for  its  executive.  You  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  transcendent 
plight  before  which  nature  itself  falls  down  humble  and  weak.  Nay, 
strengthened,  nature  rises  to  serve  God,  who  is  its  mastei",  in  you  and 
around  you.  And  they  that  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  never  be  mored. 
Firmer  than  the  mountains  round  about  Jerusalem  are  the  weakest 
who  put  their  trust  in  Jehovah. 


PRATER    BEFORE    THE    SERMON-* 

Accept,  our  heavenly  Father,  the  vows  which  thy  dear  servants  have  been 
led  to  make  by  thy  good  leading  Spirit.  Thou  hast  sought  out  the  wandering, 
and  found  them.  Thou  hast  brought  them  back  to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of 
their  souls.  Thou  hast  planted  their  feet  at  the  beginning  of  the  ways  of  right- 
eousness ;  and  though  their  steps  may  be  feeble,  and  many  enemies  may  lurk  on 
either  side,  and  they  may  have  many  a  downfall,  thou  wilt  not  leave  them  nor 
forsake  them.  Thou  wilt  guide  them  through  sickness,  and  infirmity,  and  temp- 
tations, and  troubles.  Thou  wilt  teach  them,  even  as  a  mother  teacheth  her  chil- 
dren.    Thou  wilt  hold  them  up,  even  as  the  nurse  holds  the  weakened  steps  of 

♦  Immediately  following  the  reception  of  members  into  the  church. 


384  DISC0TIBAOEMENT8  AND  COMFORTS. 

tlie  invalid.  Tliou  wilt  advance  tliem  from  strength  to  strengtli,  from  liill-top  to 
hill-top,  until  at  last  they  shall  be  presented  in  Zion  and  .hefore  God,  no  more 
wet  with  tears,  no  more  tried  with  temptations,  no  more  harrowed  by  remorse  or 
sorrow  ;  but  blessed  with  joys  that  shall  never  set.  We  thank  thee  for  their 
salvation,  and  for  all  the  hope  that  cheers  them  now  ;  and  we  pray  that  thou  wilt 
be,  more  than  they  thought,  their  God  and  their  companion.  And  grant,  we 
beseech  of  thee,  that  this  church,  receiving  these  members  into  its  bosom,  may 
be  enriched  by  them,  and  strengthened. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  all  the  members  of  this  church  may  grow  in 
grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  We  beseech 
of  thee  that  thou  wilt  be  with  all  that  are  present  to-day,  to  listen  to  thdr  prayers, 
whether  of  confession,  or  of  thanksgiving,  or  of  iniploration.  Forgive  all  those 
whose  consciences  plead  for  forgiveness.  Strengthen  those  who  in  their  con- 
scious weakness  look  up  to  thee  and  implore  help.  Deliver  those  that  are 
snared  and  can  not  extricate  themselves.  Be  near  .to  point  the  way  of  duty  to 
those  who  are  perplexed  and  are  of  a  doubtful  mind.  Che^r  those  that  are  de- 
spondent, and  reencourage,  as  thou  hast  many  times  before,  those  who  are  almost 
persuaded  to  cast  away  their  hope  and  abandon  their  Christian  life.  May  none 
turn  back.  May  none,  having  tasted  the  love  of  Christ,  or  begun  to  follow  in  his 
steps,  be  tempted  by  any  discouragement  or  by  any  persuasion  to  turn  back  to 
the  beggarly  elements  of  this  world.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  that  would 
return  thanks  to  thee  for  mercies  received,  upon  whom  thou  hast  through  months 
and  years  shed  down  thy  gracious  bounties,  and  who  feel  the  sovereign  goodness 
of  God  in  this  hour  in  his  sanctuary.  O  Lord  !  behold  their  hearts'  offerings  and 
the  consecration  which  they  make  of  their  preserved  and  restored  powers  for  thy 
future  service.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  the  memory  of  thy  goodness  to  us, 
and  of  thy  mercies,  may  soften  our  hearts  and  inspire  Christian  honor,  that  we 
may  become  better  servants  of  Him  who  is  never  weary  of  doing  us  good. 

Bless,  we  pray  thee,  the  young  in  this  cofagregation.  Inspire  them  with 
heroic  ideals  of  true  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus.  Deliver  them  from  the  snares 
and  temptations  which  beset  them.  Open  to  them  all  a  door  of  honorable  useful- 
ness, and  grant  that  they  may  be  strengthened  to  go  in  thereat  and  bear  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day  as  becomes  the  children  of  the  living  God. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  household  associated  here,  and  carry  the 
spirit  of  the  sanctuary  and  the  spirit  of  thy  salvation  into  every  dwelling. 

Bless,  we  pray  thee,  all  those  present  to-day  who  are  strangers  among  us  ;  and 
may  they  find  such  fellowship,  such  nearness  to  God,  that  they  shall  find,  indeed, 
this  to  be  an  unexpected  home  and  a  delight  to  them. 

May  all  thy  people  feel  their  brotherhood  more  and  more.  May  all  those 
vexing  differences  which  have  separated  men  pass  away.  May  there  be  more 
and  more  of  that  forgiving  spirit  of  love  which  shall  unite  thy  people — not  out- 
wardly, but  inwardly,  and  more  blessedly. 

And  grant  that  thy  kingdom  may  come,  that  thy  will  may  be  done  in  all  the 
earth,  that  thy  promises  may  be  fulfilled,  and  that  the  whole  earth  may  see  thy 
salvation.    We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


XXIL'  . 

Hindrances  at  the  Theeshold. 


HmDERANCES  AT  THE  THRESHOLD. 


SUNDAY  EVENING,  JUNE  20,   1869. 


"Wilt  tliou  be  made  whole?" — John  v.  6. 


The  history  from  which  this  passage  is  selected  I  have  ah*eady 
recited  in  your  hearing. 

These  were  the  words  of  the  Saviour,  addressed  to  one  long  crip- 
pled by  a  paralytic  trouble.  There  was  a  medicinal  or  medical  spring, 
it  seems,  which  was  so  much  resorted  to  that  it  was  built  over  for  the 
accommodation  of  those  that  thronged  it.  There  were  "  five  porches," 
or  balconies.  At  certain  times  the  water  bubbled  up,  seeming  to 
bring  up  elements  that  had  curative  power. 

It  is  stated  in  the  context  that  at  a  certain  period  an  angel  went 
down  "  and  troubled  the  water."  That  verse,  however,  is  undoubt- 
edly spurious,  and  does  not  belong  here.  Many  suppose  that  if  a 
passage  is  to  be  excluded  from  the  text  of  Scripture,  the  intrusion  of 
it  is  evidence  of  intended  fraud ;  and  that  the  adulteration  of  the  sa- 
cred text  was  for  the  purpose  of  deception.  If  you  will  consider  for  a 
moment  how  these  things  mostly  arose,  you  will  see  that  they  were 
rather  mistakes  than  intended  fraud,  and  that  they  do  not  in  any  way 
invalidate  the  text  that  remains.  For  formerly  there  was  no  print- 
ing. He  that  should  take  a  printed  book,  and  insert  another  pas- 
sage, or  any  thing  in  addition  to  what  it  contained,  could  not  justify 
himself  very  well.  It  would  be  prima  facie  evidence  of  intent  to 
deceive — to  foist  upon  the  author  something  that  did  not  belong 
to  him.  But  all  books  formerly  were  manuscripts,  continuous 
rolls ;  and  it  was  a  literary, habit,  where  a  passage  seemed  obscure,  to 
add,  either  between  the  lines  or  in  the  margin — sometimes  in  one 

Lesson  :  John  v.  1-16.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  1278,  898,  765. 


386  EWDERANCES  AT  THE  THRESHOLD. 

place,  and  soirfetimes  in  another — corrections  or  explanations.  The 
next  copyist,  not  being,  perhaps,  so  intelligent ;  being  troubled  some- 
what with  stupidity,  or  having  it  without  being  troubled  with  it, 
copied,  it  may  be,  along  with  the  text,  these  explanatioHS,  which  had 
been  made  purely  for  the  convenience  of  the  one  who  went  before. 
And  so  it  passed  on  down.  All  copies  springing  from  that  one  were 
vitiated  by  additions  which  never  were  intended  to  add  any  thing, 
but  were  simply  meant  to  be  a  commentary.  Thus,  by  the  fault  of 
the  copyist,  there  came  to  be  included  in  the  text  what  did  not  belong 
to  it.  And  this  verse,  by  the  great  majority  of  commentators  and 
critical  judges  of  Scripture  text,  is  now  rejected — the  verse  in  which 
it  is  declared :  "  An  angel  went  down  at  a  certain  season  into  the 
pool,  and  troubled  the  water.  Whosoever  then  first  after  the  troub- 
ling of  the  water  stepped  in  was  made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease 
he  had."  And  I  call  your  attention  to  it,  not  because  there  is  any 
thing  contained  in  it  which  is  difficult  to  be  believed.  If  we  accept 
Scripture,  we  may  as  well  accept  the  whole  of  it.  And  there  is 
nothing  intrinsically  absurd,  nothing  difficult,  here.  I  merely  exclude 
it  because  it  does  not  belong  here. 

This  man  had  not  staid  at  the  jdooI  for  this  whole  period.  It  is 
said  that  he  "  had  an  infirmity  thirty  and  eight  years."  It  is.  not  said 
that  he  had  tarried  there  thirty  and  eight  years.  That  was  simply 
the  length  of  time  during  which  he  had  been  thus  afflicted.  Plow 
long  he  had  hovered  about  the  pool  we  do  not  know.  It  might  have 
.been  weeks,  and  it  might  have  been  months. 

Our  Saviour  singled  him  out,  and  put  this  question  to  him,  "  Wilt 
thou  be  made  whole?"  He  replies  that  he  would;  but  that  when  the 
w^aters  are  troubled,  and  he  is  about  to  creep  down  into  them,  being 
crippled  and  infirm,  and  having  no  one  to  put  him  in,  some  other  one 
steps  in.  It  is  not  implied  that  the  stepping  in  of  others  took  the 
virtue  out  of  the  water,  but  that  the  pool  was  filled  all  the  time  dur- 
ing which  that  agitation  took  place  which  bore  up  from  the  earth  its 
medicinal  qualities.  And  so,  being  excluded,  he  waits  till  the  next 
time.  And  the  next  time  the  same  mishap  befalls  him.  Others  less 
crippled  than  he  crowd  in.  The  result  is,  that  he  is  continually  kept 
out. 

I  need  not  say  that  there  is  a  striking  analogy  between  the  case 
here  narrated,  and  what  is  going  on  in  life  all  the  time.  I  might,  if 
that  were  my  purpose,  undertake  to  show  that  in  this  world  there  are 
periodic  stirrings  of  the  healing  fountain ;  that  there  are  times  of  gra- 
cious reviving;  that  men  throng  the  "porSlies,"  as  it  were— the  vesti- 
bule of  the  temple ;  and  that  persons  are  healed  who  have  suffered 
not  only  "  thirty  and  eight  years,"  but  oftentimes  much  longer  than 
that.     I  might  follow  out  the  analogy  quite  closely,  showing  that 


HINDEBANCES  AT  TEE  THRESHOLD.  387 

wheu  a  patient  would  step  in,  another  goes  down  before  him — that 
is,  that  pleasure  steps  in  and  hinders  him ;  or,  business  steps  in  and 
hinders  him ;  or,  ambition  steps  in  and  hinders  him ;  or,  the  bias  and 
sympathy  of  friendshijD  steps  in  and  hinders  him.  But  I  purpose  to 
take  a  more  general  view,  and  make  a  larger  use  of  this  incident — to 
discuss  some  of  the  hinderances  which  serious-minded  men  find  in  their 
approach  to  a  Christian  experience,  and  to  the  beginnings  of  an  ear- 
nest and  thorough  Christian  life. 

There  are  thousands  of  men  in  Christendom,  and  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  men  in  such  a  community  as  this,  who  are  conscientious, 
serious-minded,  reflective  men,  but  still  are  not  Christians ;  who  seem 
to  approach,  in  many  respects,  very  near  to  a  Christian  life,  and  are 
veheroently  moved  at  times,  but  are  met  by  certain  hinderances  which 
prevent  them.  I  wish  to  have  a  candid  discussion  of  some  of  those 
hinderances.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  maltreat  them ;  it  is  not  my 
purpose  to  deride  them,  or  to  blame  them,  or  to  undertake  to  show 
that  every  man  is  disgraced  by  doubts  and  skepticisms.  I  would 
treat  them  in  a  much  larger,  more  sympathetic,  and,  as  I  think,  truly 
Gospel  spirit,  than  that. 

There  are  many  persons  who  are  hindered  at  the  tlireshold  of  a 
Christian  life,  from  a  vague  sense  which  they  have, working  through 
veneration,  and  through  the  imagination,  of  the  magnitude  of  the  en- 
terprise and  the  imj^ortance  of  religion,  (which  has  been  not  impro- 
perly held  out  to  them,)  and  the  greatness  of  the  results  which  it  pro- 
poses.' These  serve,  in  their  particular  instances,  to  make  the  diffi- 
culty yet  worse.  They  have  the  impression  that  they  are,  as  it  were, 
to  lift  the  world  upon  their  shoulders.  But  although  they  conceive 
the  accomplishment  of  a  Christian  life  to  be  of  transcendent  impor- 
tance, yet  how  they  shall  shoulder  the  world,  how,  like  Atlas,  they 
shall  take  the  globe  upon  them,  they  do  not  see.  They  are  cautious ; 
perhaps  they  are  timid;  usually  they  are  conscientious ;  and  they  feel 
that  their  strength  and  resolution  are  not  adequate  to  so  great  a 
thing  as  the  amplitude  of  Christian  life.     They  can  not  swing  it. 

If  religion  called  men  to  take  the  service  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
at  first  in  its  full-orbed  and  perfected  form,  this  hinderance  would  be 
valid  and  irremovable.  If  we  were  to  be  translated  from  a  state  of 
imperfection,  of  partia.lism,  of  undevelopment,  of  life  in  the  lower 
faculties,  and  death  in  the  higher,  and  were,  at  one  spring,  so  to 
speak,  to  mount  up  to  the  higher  experiences,  we  might  well  pause 
and  wait,  not  alone  for  the  troubling  of  the  water  by  the  angel's  de- 
scent, but  for  the  power  of -Omnipotence  itself,  to  transform  us.  But 
it  is  not  so.  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed,  which  a  man  took  and  sowed  in  his  field."  "  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  like  unto  leaven,  which  a  woman  took,  and  hid  in  three 


388  EIFDEBANCES  AT  THE  THRESHOLD. 

measures  of  meal,  till  the  whole  was  leavened."  Our  Master  himself 
says,  "  Except  ye  become  as  little  children  " — except  ye  go  back  on 
knowledge  ;  except  ye  go  f r.om  complexity  to  simjjlicity ;  except  ye 
go  from  much  to  little ;  except  ye  begin  at  the  minimum,  at  the 
smallest  j)oint,  and  go  up  step  by  step — "  ye  shall  not  enter  the  king- 
dom of  heaven."  And  though  a  man  might  well  hesitate  to  assume 
at  once  all  the  responsibilities  of  the  final  pei'fection  of  Christian  ex- 
perience, need  any  man  shrink  from  taking  the  first  steps  ?  For,  con- 
sider that  the  beginnings  have  no  variation — that  there  is  no  diiFerence 
between  them.  The  beginning  of  a  pyramid,  and  the  beginning  of 
the  smallest  monument,  is  of  the  same  magnitude.  It  is  no  harder  to 
begin  a  pyramid  than  to  begin  a  small  monument,  though  the  work  com- 
pleted may  be  far  more  ample  in  the  one  case  than  in  the  other. 
Whether  a  man  is  going  to  build  a  mansion  or  a  hovel,  to  begin  it  is 
the  same,  substantially.  The  same  gate  that  lets  you  out  to  go  a  mile, 
lets  you  out  to  go  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  miles.  The  first  step  in 
all  these  cases  is  just  the  same.  It  takes  no  more  labor  to  begin  a 
journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  than  it  does  to  begin  a  journey  across 
the  street  to  your  neighbor's.  If  a  man  means  to  educate  himself  for 
a  mechanic,  for  an  engineer,  for  any  department  of  art  life,  or  for 
some  minor  sphere,  toward  the  material  world,  and  the  uses  of  things, 
the  first  steps  are  just  the  same.  "Whether  a  man  seeks  universal 
knowledge,  or  knowledge  in  some  particular  direction,  there  is  no  dif- 
ference between  the  first  approaches. 

In  entering  ujdou  a  Christian  life,  then,  we  are  not  to  projiose  to 
ourselves  to  instantly  take  upon  our  shoulders  all  the  duties  and  ex- 
periences and  growths  that  are  to  run  through  scores  of  years.  .  The 
question  is,  whether  you  are  willing  to  take  the  child's  step  toward 
this  consummation.  Are  you  willing  to  begin,  though  the  beginning 
is  no  larger  than  a  grain  of  mustard-seed  ?  Are  you  willing  to  begin, 
though  the  beginning  does  not  amount  to  more  than  that  sUent  pur- 
pose which  lies  deep  hidden  in  the  soul,  but  which  works  there  as  yeast 
works  hidden  in  the  flour? 

There  are  others  who,  though  not  tangled  by  this  difficulty,  are 
seriously  embarrassed  by  another.  They  are  caught  in  morbid  intel- 
lectualism,  and  are  stuck  upon  the  spines  and  thorns  of  some  doctrinal 
problem ;  so  that  they  can  not  pass  beyond  it,  nor  get  away  from  it. 
There  are  many  who  have  been  brought  up  under  such  teaching  that 
they  fail  to  separate  between  religion  and  the  doctrines  that  lead  or 
minister  to  religion.  '  They  fail  to  separate  between  the  facts  of 
Christian  life  and  those  so-called  philosophical  facts  which  the  schools 
have  affirmed.  And  so,  men  called  to  be  made  whole,  and  really 
feeling  an  impulse  to  be  larger  spiritually,  and  to  have  some  com- 
merce with  heaven  and  some  communion  with  God,  and  having  been 


EINDERANCES  AT  THE  THRESEOLD.  389 

brought  up  according  to  the  strictest  sect,  it  may  be  of  one  school,  or 
it  may  be  of  another — such  men  have  their  doctrinal  difficulties.  And 
imtil  these  are  removed,  they  say,  "  The  way  is  embarrassed ;  I  can 
not  go  forward."  With  one,  it  is  the  doctrine  of  "reprobation;" 
with  another,  it  is  the  doctrine  of  "election;"  and  with  another  it  is 
the  doctrine  of  "  f oreordination."  They  have  never  learned  how 
to  let  such  things  alone.  And  these  doctrinal  difficulties  are  very 
much  like  such  difficulties  as  a  steed  feels  that  is  galled  by  an  over- 
tight  harness.  If  the  owner  goes  and  draws  up  the  buckle  one  or  two 
holes,  will  it  relieve  him  ?  The  tighter  you  pull,  the  more  you  gall. 
And  these  morbid  intellectual  difficulties  frequejitly  become  worse 
and  worse  by  discussion.  For  they  are  insoluble,  most  of  them. 
N"o  man  can  frame  the  Infinite  into  a  jjroportional  form.  No  man 
can  measure  God  by  words ;  and  still  less  can  a  man  measure  the 
mfinite  divine  government  by  words.  No  man  can  compress  these 
things  into  a  formula  in  such  a  way  that  he  can  say,  "  I  have  found 
out  God ;  I  have  solved  these  great  problems  concerning  the  Infinite ; 
I  have  reconciled  them."  The  man  who  thinks  he  has  done  this 
stamps  himself  instantly  as  narrow.  And  yet,  there  are  many  who 
suppose  it  to  be  their  indispensable  duty  to  do  it.  They  regard 
themselves  as  engineers,  as  it  were,  who  are  required  to  open  a  street, 
a  narrow  way,  in  order  that  men  may  put  their  feet  in  it,  and  walk 
toward  the  heavenly  land. 

I  do  not  say  that  discussions  on  abstract  philosophical  questions 
have  not  certain  benefits.  But  I  do  say  that,  though  it  is  pleasanter  to 
eat  with  a  sharp  knife  than  with  a  dull  one,  a  man  can  make  a  very 
good  meal  without  any  knife  at  all.  These  sharp'  questions  are  good 
to  whet  a  man's  faculties ;  but  though  his  faculties  are  not  whet,  if  he 
rests  itpon  the  simple  faith  of  love  in  Christ  Jesus,  if  he  is  guided 
merely  by  the  hunger  of  his  soul  to  be  made  whole  or  better,  he  can 
lead  a  very  good  Christian  life.  It  is  not  necessary  that  he  should 
solve  the  questions  relating  to  the  nature  of  God,  or  of  the  divine 
government.     He  may  let  them  alone. 

So  I  say,  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  its  " — what  did 
the  Saviour  say  ?  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  its  " — cate- 
chism ?  No,  that  was  not  it.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
its " — confession  of  faith  ?  No,  that  was  not  it.  "  Seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  its  " — doctrine  ?  No,  that  was  not  it.  What 
was  it  ?  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  its  righteousness.'^''  Let 
practice  and  experience  precede  philosopliy.  After  you  have  got 
these,  then  coordinate  them,  and  make  your  own  philosophy.  First, 
true  life ;  afterward,  the  theory  of  that  life. 

There  are  others  who.  are  hindered  bv  what  may  be  called  the 
fragments  and  ruins  of  past  attempts.     Among  these  are  secret  histo- 


390  HINDEEANGES  AT  THE  THRESHOLD. 

ries  that  will  become  wondrous  in  the  eternal  world.  The  struggles 
of  thought,  the  struggles  of  moral  feeling,  the  yearnmgs  and  blind 
seekings  of  earnest  men,  are  among  the  most  aflfecting  things  in  this 
world,  to  those  who  have  an  eye  to  discern  them  and  a  heart  to  mea- 
sure them.  There  are  many  persons  who  have  sought  a  religious  life, 
and  have  entered  upon  it,  under  such  misconstructions  and  mistakes, 
or  have  been  met  and  buffeted  by  such  influences,  that  every  thing 
in  them,  either  of  sentiment,  or  honor,  or  conscience,  or  taste,  or  pride, 
has  been  almost  fatally  wounded.  There  are  those  who  have,  in  years 
gone  by,  been  praying  men,  and  happy  praying  men,  but  who  have 
lapsed  from  then*  high  religious  state.  There  are  those  who  have 
walked  in  the  Christian  life,  and  have,  in  some  sense,  borne  a  shining 
testimony,  in  their  day,  but  who  have  stumbled  and  fallen*  away 
f  I'om  it. 

There  grows  up  in  the  mind,  fi-equently,  a  soreness,  a  positive  re- 
pellency,  a  kind  of  morbid  resistance,  to  the  very  first  approaches 
toward  a  religious  state.  It  sometimes  requires  years  to  heal  wounds 
that  have  resulted  from  these  experiences. 

Others  become  torpid  and  dead.  They  seem  to  have  lost  spiritual 
fire  in  youth.  While  enthusiasm  was  yet  strong,  they  felt  that  there 
was  a  reality  in  religion ;  but  it  having  proved  a  mockery  in  their 
case,  it  may  be,  they  come  to  have  the  impression  that  there  is  noth- 
ing of  it. 

But  there  are  a  great  many  who  do  not  fall  so  fai",  and  who  bury 
then-  hearts  wdthin  them.  They  hope  that  yet,  some  time,  they  shall 
have  a  saving  knowledge  of  Christ,  but  they  are  without  any  definite 
piirposes.  They  have  faith  in  religion  ;  they  have  some  remote  sym- 
pathy for  it ;  they  have  a  certain  gladness  at  seeing  others  enter  the 
Christian  life ;  there  are  occasional  periods  in  which  the  old  tide  rises 
up  in  them ;  yet,  in  the  main,  they  hold  on  their  way,  and  the  old 
abortive  exj^erience  of  a  Christian  life  hinders  them. 

It  is  a  great  misfortune  to  have  made  such  a  mistake ;  but  if  it 
has  pleased  God,  in  spite  of  that  mistake,  to  continue  moral  sensibili- 
ty ;  if  you  have  not  lost  respect  for  Christian  truth  and  for  Christian 
ordmances ;  if  you  have  not  lost  the  desire,  however  small  it  may  be, 
and  however  latent  it  may  be,  to  live  a  truly  religious  life,  then  you 
should  bless  God  that  there  is  yet  hoj)e  and  a  chance  for  you.  For 
the  mistakes  that  you  have  made  once,  and  twice,  and  thrice,  are  no 
reasons  why  you  should  not,  with  better  light,  with  ampler  experience, 
and  with  other  mfluences,  regain  the  lost  ground. 

One  thing  is  certain,  that,  whether  or  not  you  have  been  on  the 
true  ground,  no  man  can  afford  to  consign  himself  to  everlasting  self- 
ishne^  and  pride  and  ignominy,  because  he  has  made  a  mistake  in 
attempting  to  be  healed.      No  man  does  that  in  his  body.     There  is 


EIFDERAFGES  AT  THE  THBESEOLD.  391 

many  a  man  that  finally  recovers,  who  says,  "  Oh  !  if  I  had  known  the 
benefits  of  water-cure,  how  many  years  I  wonld  have  been  spared  of 
seeking  for  health  ?"  How  many  persons  there  are  who  have  fulfilled 
the  experience  of  the  woman  in  the  Gospel,  who  for  years  had  an 
issue  of  blood,  and  sufiered  by  many  physicians,  and  got  nothing  bet- 
ter, but  much  worse  ;  who  spent  her  substance  in  trying  to  get  wejl, 
and  got  nothing  from  it ;  and  who  at  last,  at  the  word  of  the  Saviour, 
was  sovereignly  healed !  No  mistakes  ever  for  one  moment  hinder  a 
man  if  it  is  bodily  sickness.  If  there  is  the  ever-waiting  ^^ain ;  if  there 
is  the  perpetual  infirmity ;  if  there  is  the  foot  or  the  hand,  that,  crij)- 
pled,  refuses  to  do  its  duty ;  and  if  life  is  yet  before  you,  and  others 
are  gay  and  active — under  such  circumstances  you  do  not  give  up. 
"  Oh  !  for  health  !  Oh  !  for  health  P'  says  the  sick  body.  If  there 
was  but  that  same  feeling  in  regard  to  the  sick  soul,  there  would  be 
no  trouble. 

"  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ?"  saith  the  Saviour.  The  question  is 
not,  "How  many  of  you  have  tried  the  faith ?"  It  is  not,  "  How  long 
have  you  sufiered  ?"  It  is  simply  this :  "  Wilt  thou  now  be  made 
whole?"  While  you  still  turn  your  eye  back  morbidly  upon  your 
own  mistakes,  there  is  but  little  chance  for  you;  but  if  you  rouse  up 
from  this  backward-looking  selfishness — for  this  ever-repeating  con- 
sciousness finally  falls  into  selfishness ;  if  you  cease  any  longer  to 
think  so  much  about  the  past ;  if,  forgetting  the  things  that  are  be- 
hind, you  press  forward  to  the  things  that  are  before ;  if  there  be  in 
you  yet  a  springing,  yearning  desire  to  enter  at  once  and  fully  upon 
the  Christian  course ;  and  if  you  say  to  the  Saviour,  "  Yes,  I  fain 
would  be  made  whole,"  then  your  mistakes  are  not  fatal,  and  tliere  is 
no  reason  why,  having  failed  once,  or  twice,  or  thrice,  you  should  not 
sti'ive  again. 

It  is  said  of  Bruce,  that,  in  prison,  and  discouraged  with  the  heat 
of  his  campaign  for  the  liberties  of  his  country,  he  in  moody  thoughts 
meditated  giving  up  the  struggle ;  but  as  he  lay  and  thought,  a  spi- 
der, spinning  doAvn,  caught  his  web  upon  some  point,  and  almost  fell 
to  the  floor.  Not  daunted,  it  crept  up  and  back,  and  started  again ; 
and  missed  again.  And  again  it  tried,  and  fell  again.  It  Avent 
through  seven  trials,  and  finally,  on  the  eighth,  caught,  and  estab- 
lished itself.  And  then,  with  a  base-line  laid,  it  formed  its  web. 
Brace  took  heart  from  that,  through  rebuke,  and  determined  never  to 
give  up  the  struggle.     And  at  last  victory  came. 

Oh  !  that  spiders  might  teach  us  !  Oh  !  that  from  the  persevci-ing 
ingenuity  of  the  animal  kingdom,  we  might  be  persuaded  to  weave 
not  alone  the  web  of  our  earthly  plans  and  measiires,  but  that  more 
glorious  cord  that  is  to  connect  us  with  the  eternal,  and  the  joy  and 
blessedness  of  immortality ! 


392  niNDERANCES  AT  THE  THEE8E0LD. 

I  sLall  not  sjseak  of  the  hinclerances  wliicli  are  the  result  of  the 
inspection  of  the  lives  of  Christian  men.  There  are  hinclerances  of 
this  kind ;  but  I  am  speaking  of  those  that  are  less  unworthy ;  those 
that  belong  to  generous  and  noble  minds.  The  man  who  makes  the 
example  of  Christians  round  about  him  the  pretense  of  hinderance, 
stamps  himself  as  ignoble.  He  knows  that  this  has  nothing  to  do 
with  his  own  case.  However  other  men  may  be  cowardly,  that  is  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  be  courageous.  HoAvever  other  men  may 
lie,  that  is  no  reason  why  he  should  tell  falsehoods.  However  other 
men  may  be  unreliable  in  business  life,  that  is  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  be  reliable  in  business  life.  And  however  imperfect  men 
may  be  in  their  moral  lives,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  obliga- 
tion of  every  man  to  live  a  high  and  pure  and  holy  life.  And  when 
I  hear  men  pleading  the  insincerity  and  inconsistency  of  Christians 
as  a  reason  why  they  themselves  are  not  Christians,  I  know  that  they 
want  an  excuse,  and  that  they  search  for  one.  I  pass  by  such  cases, 
therefore,  withoiit  respectful  consideration. 

I  mention,  next,  the  debilitating  eiFect  of  skeptical  doubts  upon 
the  moral  sense.  There  are  a  great  .many  who  can  not  accept  religion 
as  a  mere  fact.  There  are  a  great  many  on  whose  minds  are  throng- 
ing thousands  of  thoughts.  There  are  those  who  come  to  religion 
from  the  side  of  the  household,  and  from  the  side  of  their  affections. 
And  they  can  not  doubt.  Blessed  be  that  man  who  had  such  a  father 
and  mother  that,  as  long  as  the  memory  of  father  and  mother  lives, 
he  can  not  doubt.  Under  such  circumstances,  whatever  the  intellect 
may  do,  the  heart  rectifies  it.  The  intellect  may  write  "  Skepticism," 
but  the  heart  rubs  it  out,  and  writes  "  Love."  Bitt  many  have  no 
such  childhood,  no  such  teaching,  and  no  such  association.  My  mem- 
ory goes  back  to  the  Sabbaths  of  my  childhood ;  to  the  bright  hill- 
top; to  the  church-bell;  and,  so  long  as  I  remember  these  things,  and 
have  a  vision  of  my  mother,  and  a  recollection  of  my  father,  I  can 
not  doubt  religion.  But  there  are  many  who  had  no  such  parents — 
or  none  within  their  remembrance.  Many  have  had  their  whole  life's 
training  in  the  most  material  elements  ;  some  in  artistic  relations ; 
some  in  realms  of  doubt ;  some  in  intellectual  gladiation.  Men  come 
to  the  subject  of  religion  from  entirely  different  points.  And  when  men 
come  to  religion  in  such  ways  that  they  have  in  themselves  no  moral 
witness  to  the  truth,  and  have  siiggestions  and  doubts  that  they  do 
not  seek,  but  that  are  forced  uj^on  them,  there  is  a  certain  respect  to 
be  paid  them,  and  a  certain  sympathy  to  be  experienced  for  them. 

I  do  not  undertake  to  measure  such  persons  on  the  scale  of  guilt 
at  all.  I  am  not  speaking  of  their  fault-worthiness.  I  am  simj^ly 
speaking  of  the  dynamic  influence  on  a  man's  feelings  and  purposes 
of  absolutely  disbelieving  a  thing,  or  only  doubting  it.      Such  is  the 


EIHTDERANCES  AT  TEE  THRESHOLD.  393 

nature  of  things  that  we  live  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight,  in  respect  to 
the  whole  realm  of  the  invisible,  from  which  that  power  is  to  be 
derived  by  which  the  soul  is  to  be  rectified.  Once  let  a  man  doubt, 
and  that  is  enough.  It  breaks  his  power  of  believing.  There  are 
thousands  of  men  that  would  be  far  from  saying,  "  I  disbelieve,"  but 
that  do  not  believe.  They  would  only  say,  "  I  am  uncertain ;"  but  to 
be  uncertain  is  enough.  When  mighty  winds  blow,  it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  a  tree  should  be  torn  up  by  the  roots  to  be  destroyed.  On 
the  hillside  I  have  seen  young  fruit-trees  so  bent  over  that  their  roots 
have  been,  not  pulled  out  of  the  ground,  but  broken  away  from  their 
anchorage  in  the  soil,  so  that  the  trees  were  lying  at  an  acute  angle 
with  the  ground.  They  have  received  a  shock,  and  perhaps  a  fatal 
shock.  The  roots  are  there  under  the  ground ;  but  they  are  broken 
away  from  their  contact  with  the  living  earth,  and  the  material  food 
that  is  in  it. 

I  have  seen  many  persons  who  were  bent  by  the  winds  of  doubt. 
They  are  so  moved  that  the  root  is  imj^aired,  and  no  longer  performs , 
the  office  of  collecting  food  and  sending  it  up  through  the  whole  or-^ 
ganization.  And  such  persons,  as  I  have  said,  are  as  much  objects 
of  sympathy  as  of  blame.  I  do  not  say  that  they  are  free  from  guilt 
before  God ;  but  I  do  say  that  it  is  not  good  policy  for  us  to  tread 
them  down,  to  fix  upon  them  a  stigma,  to  undertake  to  dragoon  their 
consciences,  or  to  treat  them  other  than  with  that  compassion  or  pity 
with  which  a  benevolent  surgeon  or  physician  looks  upon  the  symp- 
toms of  mortal  sickness  in  any  of  his  patients. 

I  say,  then,  "  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ?"  Whatever  maj^  be 
your  doubts  and  you.r  difficulties,  is  there  not  a  point  of  health 
left  ?  Whatever  may  be  the  systems  of  philosophy  under  the  influ- 
ence of  which  you  have  been  brought  up,  are  you  not  conscious,  per- 
sonally and  experimentally,  that  you  are  in  a  low  moral  state  ?  Are 
you  not  conscious  that  there  is  a  want  of  spirituality  in  you  ?  Are 
you  not  conscious  that  you  need  the  inflammation,  the  summer-fire  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  ?  Are  you  not  conscious  that  there  is  needed  in  your 
soul  something  that  shall  lift  you  into  a  larger  manhood  ?  Are  you 
content  ?  Have  you  nothing  to  desire  in  yourself?  Do  you  accom- 
plish your  ideals  ?  Have  you  marked  the  frame- work  of  character  ? 
and  have  you  filled  it  up  ?  Are  you  not  leaving  out  the  revealed  truths 
of  Christian  manhood  ?  Are  you,  even  on  the  pattern  of  mere  secular 
manhood,  what  you  would  be  ?  Are  there  no  continually-dropping 
faults?  Ai-e  there  no  eating  sins?  Are  thei'e  no  bondages  of  pride 
and  selfishness  ?  Are  you  not  subject  to  evil  influences  in  such  a  way 
that  you  hold  up  your  hands,  and  cry  out,  often  and  often,  "  Who 
shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?" 

To  such  Christ  comes,  as  he  came  to  the  poor  sick  man  of  the 


394  HINDEUA^TES  AT  TUE  THRESHOLD. 

porch,  and  says,  "  Though  the  ordinai-y  means  of  healing  do  not  avail 
for  thee,  wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ?"  There  is  healing  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  even  for  men  who  do  not  know  what  they  believe;  w^ho 
doubt  other  people's  belief.  There  is  a  spiritual  point  where  grace 
can  take  hold  and  heal  souls,  though  little  by  little,  from  the  ex- 
perimental point,  they  shall  find  their  way  out  from  the  solution  of 
the  difficulties  which  hinder  them. 

There  is  another  hinderance,  of  the  subtle  and  interior  kind,  belong- 
ing to  the  genus  of  which  I  am  treating.  There  are  those,  the  habit 
of  whose  minds  converts  moral  impressions  into  ideas,  ratlier  than 
into  actions.  There  are  those  who  tend  toward  thought,  rather  than 
toward  disposition,  and  thus  become  reverists,  instead  of  practical 
and  living  Christians.  There  are  those  who  are  so  familiar  with  the 
Bible  that  it  is  worn  smooth.  Their  wheels  slip,  as  it  were,  on  the 
track.  There  are  a  great  many  whom  nothing  seems  to  touch  sharply 
and  closely;  and  in  so  far  as  they  have  had  thoughts  on  this  subject, 
they  have  been  thoughts  that  have  run  off  into  reverie.  They  smoul- 
der. There  is  no  flame  in  them.  There  are  men  who  are  like  char- 
coal heaps.  The  burner  goes  to  the  mountain,  cuts  down  trees  of 
every  kind,  reduces  them  to  the  proper  lengths,  stacks  them  up,  puts 
earth  over  them,  pats  down  the  sod,  opens  a  hole,  and  puts  in  his  fire. 
Then  the  flame  takes  hold.  Instantly,  however,  the  heap  is  tightly 
covered  again,  and  then  is  left.  And  now  the  fire  eats,  and  eats,  and' 
eats ;  and  without  any  disclosure  of  itself.  There  is  not  air  enough 
to  create  a  blaze,  and  the  whole  mass  is  turned  into  charcoal.  The 
form  of  the  wood  is  left,  but  the  living  principle  is  gone.  The  whole 
is  carbonized. 

There  are  a  great  many  men  who  never  once  break  out  into  flame. 
They  are,  as  it  were,  compacted  of  thoughts  and  feelings  which  are 
so  covered  up,  and  so  smothered,  that  they  never  have  disclosure. 
There  is  a  process  of  inw^ard  consumption  going  on.  They  are  given 
to  reverie ;  to  thinking  about  things ;  to  turning  them  over  in  the 
mind  ;  to  taking  them  ixp  and  laying  them  down  ;  to  drawing  them 
on,  and  putting  them  ofi". 

Have  you  never  seen,  on  a  hot,  sweltering  summer  day,  a  boy  at 
his  studies  ?  He  takes  up  his  book,  and  opens  it  at  a  given  jDlace, 
and  reads  a  little.  He  does  not  want  to  read  there,  so  he  opens  it  at 
another  place,  and  reads  a  little  there.  He  does  not  want  to  read  there, 
either,  and  turns  to  another  place,  and  reads  a  little.  He  takes 
up  another  book,  and  looks  at  the  pictures.  He  takes  up  another  book. 
It  is  bottom-side  up ;  but  he  does  not  know  it.  He  takes  up  another 
book.  And  so  he  listlessly  drifts.  All  the  summer  afternoon  he  has 
been  busy  with  his  books,  but  he  has  not  gained  one  single  idea.  He 
is  in  a  state  of  reverie  all  the  time. 


EmDERANCES  AT  TEE  TEBESEOLD.  395 

What  would  you  think  of  a  mechanic  who  should  go  to  hisbench, 
prepossessed  by  some  sorrow  or  joy,  and  thoughtlessly  take  ujd  his 
chisel,  and  cut  with  it  here ;  and  lay  that  down,  and  take  up  his  com- 
pass, and  mark  out  some  work  there  ;  and  lay  it  aside,  and  take  up 
his  saw,  and  draw  it  once  or  twice  ;  and  then  take  up  his  plane ;  and 
so  run  through  his  whole  kit  of  tools,  without  any  aim  or  object,  fram 
ing  nothing,  doing  nothing,  accomplishing  no  result,  simply  begin- 
ning one  thing  and  then  another  ? 

So  men  do,  precisely,  in  religion.  The  problem  with  every  man  is. 
How  will  you  Establish  manhood  on  a  moral  basis?  How  will  you 
begin  at  the  smallest  point,  and  carry  up  your  life  on  a  higher  plane, 
with  a  noble  purpose,  and  with  daily  accretions  and  victories  ?  But 
men,  instead  of  doing  any  thing,  think  about  this  thing  and  that. 
They  think  about  the  poetry  of  religion.  They  think  about  the  ser- 
mons that  they  have  heard,  and  turn  them  over  in  their  mind.  They 
are  said  to  be  thoughtful.  They  say,  "  I  have  religion  much  in  my 
mind."  Yes,  it  is  in  their  mind  as  a  reverie.  They  are  like  smokers. 
A  man  goes  into  his  study,  and  puts  his  feet  on  the  stove,  and  rocks, 
and  takes  his  pipe,  and  smokes  for  ideas !  And  soon  the  ideas  curl 
up  about  his  head !  And  the  room  is  full  of  ideas  at  last !  And 
there  are  thousands  of  men  who  treat  religion  in  very  much  the  same 
way.  They  are  after  ideas.  And  what  more  do  they  get  than  vague, 
pleasing,  but  absolutely  useless  reverie  ?  There  is  a  very  bad  habit 
of  digestion  where  every  thing  turns  to  reverie.  Men  ought  to  reduce 
thoughts  to  purposes,  and  purposes  to  results.  That  is  the  true,  manly 
course.  Not  they  are  the  real  wise  men,  Avho  use  their  mind  as  a  mill, 
and  ceaselessly  grind  their  thoughts,  like  wheat,  but  never  get  so  far 
as  to  make  a  loaf  of  bread. 

There  are  those  who  have  a  vague  impression  that  religion  de- 
mands a  professional  and  ecclesiastical  character,  which,  although  it 
may  be  necessary,  is  repulsive.  There  are  many  who  feel  that  reli- 
gion is  to  life,  and  to  eternal  life,  what  a  court  dress,  in  Europe,  is  to 
an  ambassador.  If  one  follows  the  fashion  of  the  European  courts, 
he  can  not  go  before  the  king  on  royal  receptions,  except  in  the  ridi- 
culous equipage  which  is  prescribed,  and  which  is  designed  as  fir  as 
possible  to  make  a  man  look  like  a  monkey.  And  though  it  may  be 
repulsive  to  his  taste,  the  man  says,  "  I  am  here  as  ambassador,  and 
this  is  purely  professional ;  and  although  I  laugh  at  this  wig,  and  this 
sword,  and  all  these  trimmings,  as  unworthy  of  a  man,  yet  I  submit 
to  them,  and  discharge  my  diity  in  them." 

Many  people  seem  to  think  that  grace  is  a  sort  of  suit  cat  out  for 
a  man ;  that  a  man  must  become  a  Christian  in  some  regular  way ; 
that  he  must  have  this  or  that  kind  of  experience,  or  he  can  not  be  a 
Christian  ;  that  Christianity  has  prescribed  certain  ecclesiastical  con- 


396  si:nderances  at  the  thbeshold. 

ditions.  And  men  say,  "Rather  than  be  lost,  I  prefer  to  become  a 
Christian."  But  the  thing  itself  is  repulsive  to  them.  They  see  no 
beauty  in  the  life,  and  no  beauty  in  the  idea. 

I  present  distinctly  the  other  view.  That  is  the  representation  of 
the  ascetic  ;  but  I  call  men  not  to  the  assumption  of  things  disagree- 
able. If  there  is  one  single  thing  obligatory  upon  a  man,  which,  when 
viewed  from  the  right  stand-point,  is  homely  and  unlovely,  it  does  not 
belong  to 'Christianity.  Christianity  is  in  its  very  nature  the  endow- 
ing of  a  man  with  royalty  of  character.  It  is  the  making  things  strong, 
and  sweet,  and  fruitful,  and  beautiful.  Beauty,  and  liberty,  and  life, 
and  power,  belong  to  every  single  element  to  which  a  man  is  called 
in  the  Christian  life.  And  I  preach  Christ  and  the  Christian  life,  not 
because  they  are  necessary  to  bridge  over  death,  and  save  a  man  from 
damnation.  I  preach  them  as  the  only  way  in  which  a  man  can  ful- 
fill his  nature  ;  as  the  only  way  in  which  a  man  can  rightly  develop 
his  reason,  and  subordinate  passion  to  moral  sentiment ;  as  the  only 
way  in  which  moral  sentiment  can  come  to  all  its  blossoms,  and  to  all 
•its  beauty.  It  is  the  best  part  of  a  man's  nature  that  Christianity  libe- 
rates. AVithout  religion,  a  man  is  like  gold  which  is  hidden  in  a 
mountain.  With  it,  he  is  like  the  gold  when  it  is  dug  out,  and  be- 
comes coin,  or  is  made  into  ten  thousand  beautiful  objects.  Without 
religion,  a  man  is  as  a  seed.  With  it,  he  is  as  the  oak  which  is  de- 
veloped from  that  seed — or  the  wine  that  has  been  produced  from  that 
seed — or  the  flowers  that  have  sprung  from  that  seed. 

If  a  man,  therefore,  looks  upon  the  Christian  life,  and  says,  "  Oh ! 
it  is  a  dreary,  cross-bearing,  sighing,  solitary  kind  of  life  !"  I  say  it 
is  not.  If  he  says,  "  It  is  not  the  life  for  the  young  eagle,  or  the 
lion,"  I  say  it  is  just  the  life  for  the  young  eagle,  and  that  "  the  Lion 
of  the  tribe  of  Judah"  is  its  model.  The  eagle  is  the  very  symbol 
employed ;  and  God  calls  us  eaglets,  to  be  borne  aloft  by  his  power. 

I  call  you  to  no  suicidal,  crippling  process.  I  call  you  to  no  such 
idea  of  crucifixion  and  separation  as  takes  away  any  part  of  a  true, 
real,  manly  development.  I  call  men  to  nature.  I  call  men  back  to 
God  in  nature:  I  call  men  to  magnitude,  to  glory,  to  power,  and  to 
liberty,  such  as  can  not  belong  to  those  who  serve  the  flesh,  and  such 
as  belong  only  to  those  who  live  in  the  spirit,  and  for  the  spirit. 

If  there  be  those,  then,  who  are  hindered  by  a  misconception  of 
what  Christian  character  means,  I  j^ray  you,  revolutionize  your  con- 
ceptions. Your  hinderances  will  drop  as  soon  as  you  have  a  right 
idea  of  a  true  Christian  life  and  character.  '  • 

I  will  not  pursue  further  a  consideration  of  these  hinderances  to- 
night. I  will  only,  in  closing,  say  that  the  very  central  point  of  all 
is  this — that  every  man,  whatever  be  his  hinderances,  should  be  faith- 
ful to  the  inward  yearning  and  longing  to  be  made  whole.     If  that 


EINDERAKCE8  AT  THE  THRESHOLD.  397 

lives,  and  yoii  are  true  to  it,  there  is  hope  for  yon.  So  long  as  a  man 
aspires;  so  long  as  a  man  does  not  count  himself  unworthy  of  eternal 
life  ;  so  long  as  a  man  does  not  abandon,  or  cover  over  and  bury  the 
thou^ght  in  the  text,  and  consign  himself  to  an  ignominious  indiflfe- 
rence  ;  so  long  as  a  man  has  a  palpitating  consciousness  measuring 
his  life,  and  his  thoughts,  and  his  ambitions,  and  his  conduct ;  so 
long  as  he  feels  his  imperfection  ;  so  long  as  all  the  pride  in  him  is  a 
noble  pride ;' so  long  as  he  is  discontented,  and  from  day  to  day 
yearns  for  higher  possibilities — so  long  there  is  hope  for  him.  And 
Christ  comes  to  such,  saying,  "  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ?"  There 
is  a  way  where  there  is  a  will ;  and  nowhere  else  so  much  as  iu 
religion. 

What  if  you  are  at  the  extremest  remove  from  the  faith  which  we 
hold  ?  You  are  a  child  of  God.  Whatever  may  be  your  education 
in  ecclesiasticism,  and  whatever  old  notions,  or  tlieologies,  and  philo- 
sophies, you  may  have,  human  nature  is  common  to  all  men,  and 
alike  in  all.  And  if  you  have  a  yearning  desire  for  something  higher 
and  nobler  and  better,  this  very  desire  is  the  call  of  God  in  your 
soul.  It  is  the  voice  of  Christ,  saying  to  each  of  you,  "  Wilt  thou  be 
made  whole  ?" 

Are  there  not  those  here  to-night  who  have  drifted  long  enough  ? 
'O  children  of  faithful  parents  !  O  men  who  for  years  and  years  have 
lived  to  violate  your  own  convictions  !  O  ye  that  have  submitted  to 
the  bondage  of  this  world,  and  felt  all  the  time  that  it  was  an  igno- 
minious bondage  !  are  there  none  of  yom  that,  out  of  the  prison-house, 
hold  up  your  hands  and  cry  for  deliverance  ?  Are  there  none  who 
are  in  bondage  to  unworthy  habits  ?  Are  there  none  that  shake 
their  chains  and  say,  "  Who  will  deliver  us  from  this  bondage  ?" 
Are  there  none  here  to-night  who  look  back  upon  the  time  that  is 
spent  and  past  ?  Ai-e  there  none  to  whom  sad  feelings  come  sigh- 
ing, as  in  autumn,  when  the  leaves  fall,  and  the  wind  sighs  through  the 
fields  and  the  forests?  Is  there  no  autumnal  feeling  breathing  over  your 
souls  to-night,  and  awaking  yearnings  and  longings  ?  Can  you  see 
men  fall  before  you ;  can  you  see  ambitions  explode  ;  can  you  behold 
the  hoUowness  and  baseness  of  the  world ;  and  then  can  you  look 
forward  into  immortality  ;  can  you  ask  yourself,  "  What  shall  become 
of  this  yearning  and  longing  ?  Where  shall  affections  bloom  ?  Is 
this  the  end  of  them  ?  Where  is  my  child  ?  Where  is  she  that  was 
dearer  to  me  than  my  own  self?  Where  are  those  that  taught 
me  ?  Am  I  a  wanderer  alone  ?  Am  I  to  be  puffed  out  as  a  candle  ? 
Am  I  no  more  than  a  candle's  flame  ?" — can  you  look  upon  these 
things,  and  ask  yourself  these  questions,  and  not  be  concerned? 

Let  rattling  and  discordant  creeds  alone.  Do  not  mind  the 
quarrels  of  churches.     Listen  to  your  own  inward  want.     Hear  your 


398  HINDEBANCES  AT  THE  THRESHOLD. 

own  heart.  Believe  the  testhnony  of  your  own  conscience.  Give 
heed  to  your  own  reason.  In  all  these  things  is.  »  voice  of  the 
Saviour  that  is  passing  by.  You  Avho  twenty,  or  thirty,  ^v  eight  and 
thirty  years,  it  may  be,  have  been  lying  crippled  and  helpless,  hear 
Christ  saying  to  you,  "  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ?" 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOI. 

Thou,  0  Lord  !  art  the  searcher  of  the  spirit.  Thou  knowest  the  heart  alto- 
gether. We  do  not  know  thee,  but  thou  knowest  us.  Naked  and  open  are  we 
before  Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do.  And  yet  we  are  commanded  to  come 
boldly  before  thee.  Thy  knowledge  is  not  for  our  condemnation.  Thy  thoughts 
are  thoughts  of  mercy,  and  thy  knowledge  is  for  salvation.  And  we  beseech  of 
thee  that  we  may  from  day  to  day  draw  near  with  boldness  and  simplicity,  with 
sincere  penitence,  with  earnest  desires,  that  we  may  be  godly,  living  above  this 
present  world  while  living  in  it,  with  purer  motives,  with  nobler  aims,  with  a 
better  endeavor  than  other  men.  Because  we  are  called  by  thy  name,  may  we 
have  thy  spirit,  walk  in  thy  footsteps,  bear  about  thy  precious  example,  and  be, 
according  to  the  measure  of  our  knowledge  and  our  strength,  to  others  what  thou 
art  to  us.  Forgive  the  deficiency  of  our  past  lives.  Forgive  the  outright  sins 
which  we  have  committed.  Our  forgetfulness,  our  heedlessness,  our  infirmities — ' 
we  beseech  of  thee  not  only  that  thou  wilt  pass  them  by,  but  that  thou  wilt  give 
us  strength  in  time  to  come.  For  we  desire,  not  so  much  to  remove  pain  and 
penalty,  as  to  remove  impurity  and  selfishness  and  pride.  It  is  not  so  much  joy 
that  we  seek,  as  that  we  may  have  a  better  manhood,  nobler  thoughts,  truer  pur- 
poses, and  purer  hearts,  and  be  more  gracious  and  generous  and  beneficent,  as 
thou  art.  And  Ave  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  unto  us  that  we  may 
grow  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Sa\'iour  Jesus  Christ. 

If  there  are  any  avIio  look  upon  .the  Christian  life  wistfully,  and  desire  to  enter 
therein,  but  are  hindered,  O  Lord !  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  take  away  the  hin- 
derances,  or  teach  them  to  remove  them.  Confirm  all  good  resolutions.  Inspire 
resolutions  in  those  who  have  been  careless  and  heedless.  We  pray  that  thou 
wilt  consummate  the  work  where  it  has  begun.  If  there  are  those  who  are  be- 
ginning to  turn  their  thoughts  to  God,  who  are  adding  one  or  two  purposes,  but 
who  are  not  yet  entering  in  earnest  and  fully  upon  the  Christian  course,  0  Lord ! 
we  pray  that  thou  wilt  quicken  them,  that  thou  wilt  give  them  a  whole  heart, 
that  they  may  seek  thee  with  all  their  heart,  and  mind,  and  soul,  and  strength. 
And  may  this  greatest  gift  of  God,  the  revelation  of  Christ  Jesus,  in  the  expe- 
rience of  our  hearts,  be  granted  to  every  one  here — especially  to  those  who  are 
taught — to  those  that  have  been  from  childhood  instructed  in  things  pertaining 
to  their  salvation. 

Remember,  we  pray  thee,  consecrated  ones.  Eemember  those  that  have  been 
promised  unto  thee.  Remember  those  whom  parents  have  brought  up  in  the 
ways  of  the  Lord.  Far  from  thee  they  may  have  gone  ;  but  not  beyond  thy  reach 
nor  thy  mercy.  If  they  be  enthralled,  if  they  are  tempted  more  than  they  can 
bear,  oh !  suffer  them  not  to  be  overthrown  and  to  become  castaways.  Bring 
back  the  wandering.    Restore  them  to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  their  souls. 


EmBEBANCES  AT  TEE  TEBE8E0LB.  899 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  each  one  of  iis  to  help  others.  May 
those  that  are  joined  together  in  life  in  a  holy  friendship  help  each  other,  and  be- 
ware of  hindering  one  another.  May  we  put  no  burdens  upon  others.  May  we 
see  to  it  that  our  example,  that  our  disposition,  that  our  very  privileges  and 
rights,  are  not  made  yokes  of  bondage  to  others.  While  we  seek  our  own  liberty, 
may  we  likewise  seek  the  liberty  of  others  round  about  us. 

Grant  that  we  may  be  steadfast  in  the  divine  life.  And  as  the  days  go  on, 
and  our  years  are  more  and  more  numbered  and  passed  tiway  ;  as  we  behold  the 
mortality  of  men,  and  see  on  how  frail  a  foundation  the  strongest  stand — grant 
that  we  may  be  more  earnest,  and  that  we  may  fulfill  the  will  of  our  God.  May  we 
do  with  our  might  what  our  hands  find' to  do.  The  night  couieth,  when  no  man 
can  labor. 

Bless  the  services  of  the  evening — the  word  of  instruction,  the  songs  of  praise, 
our  communion  of  prayer,  our  fellowship  one  with  another.  Accept  our  thanks- 
giving for  all  the  many  blessings  with  which  this  day  has  been  freighted. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thus  thou  wilt  advance  us  from  Sunday  to  Sunday, 
until  at  last  we  are  prepared  to  rise  and  enter  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the 
people  of  God. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.     Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMOI^. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  add  thy  blessing  to  the  word  of 
truth  spoken.  May  it  go  forth  with  power.  May  it  find  some.  May  it  excite 
again  the  accustomed  feeling.  May  it  lead  some  minds  to  new  purposes.  INIay 
there  be  some  that  shall  begin,  from  this  night,  according  to  the  measure  of  their 
strength  and  the  light  that  is  shining  on  their  path,  to  walk  in  the  Christian  life. 
Oh !  reveal  thyself,  thou  that  art  the  chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  altogether 
lovely  ;  thou  whom  the  sun  can  not  help  for  brightness  ;  thou  whom  all  the  earth, 
in  its  summer  beauty,  is  not  fit  to  represent.  0  thou  Prince  and  glorious  God 
and  Father !  manifest  thyself  to  longing  souls.  Find  those  that  can  not  find 
themselves.  Speak  to  those  that  vnW  not  speak  to  thee.  Heal  those  that  are 
dying  for  lack  of  medicine.     Glorify  thyself. 

And  thy  name  shall  have  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.     Amen. 


XXIII. 

The  Supreme  Allegiance. 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 


SUNDAY  EVENING,  MARCH  28,  1869. 


"  He  tliat  lovetli  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of.  me  :  and  he 
that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me.  And  he  that 
taketh  not  his  cross,  and  followeth  after  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me." — Matt.  s. 
37,38. 

"  And  there  went  great  multitudes  with  him :  and  he  turned,  and  said  unto 
them,  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and 
children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  can  not  be  my 
disciple." — Luke  xiv.  25,  26. 


The  most  extraordinary  tiling  that  occurs  in  this  passage  is,  that 
it  is  the  language  of  one  who  was  supposed  to  be  seeking  to  build  iip 
a  party.  It  had  excited  universal  interest.  Men  were  not  only  in- 
quisitive, but  their  curiosity  had  become  morbidly  strong.  He  could 
go  nowhere,  that  the  village  or  town  or  city  did  not  pour  forth 
its  multitude.  And  if  he  were  a  partisan,  if  he  had  a  new  church  to 
found,  a  new  kingdom  to  establish,  this  was  a  very  strange  welcome 
to  those  who  were  coming  toward  him  and  to  him.  Never  was  there 
before,  and  never  has  there  been  since,  I  apprehend,  such  a  speech 
made  to  those  that  professed  to  be  willing  and  desirous  to  follow  an- 
other. 

Not  only  that,  but  considering  it  in  its  relation  to  entering  upon 
a  Christian  or  Christlike  life,  upon  a  religious  course,  was  there  ever 
such  a  discouragement,  as  it  stood,  and  as  it  stands  ?  Usually,  men 
are  supposed  to  think  that  there  are  obstacles  enough  in  their  way. 
At  any  rate,  men  have  a  strife  against  their  own  feelings ;  against 
the  social  influences  that  surround  them ;  against  old  habits ;  against 
many  insidious  and  cunning  temptations ;  and  our  Saviour  himself 
declared'  that  the  way  to  eternal  life  was  narrow,  and  very  steep, 
and  extremely  difficult.  And  was  it  necessary  to  heap  additional 
difficulties  on  the  threshold  ?  Was  it  necessary  to  carry  language 
to  such  an  extent  as  to  say,  "Unless  a  man  hate  his  father,  and  hiS 
mother,  and  his  wife,  and  his  sister,  and  his  brother,  and  his  child, 

Lbsson  :  1  Peter  iv.  7-16.    Htmns  (Plymouth  Collection) :  Nos.  143,  270, 719. 


402  TEE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

and  himself  also,  he  shall  not  be  my  disciple"  ?  "What  is  a  man,  afler 
he  has  di-opped  off  all  his  affections  ?  "What  is  there  left  for  disciple- 
ship  ?  "What  is  a  man  worth  that  has  been  taught  by  some  fanati- 
cism to  hate  his  father  and  his  mother  ?  Is  that  a  part  of  the  new 
faith?  Is  that  the  best  disclosure  of  this  princely  religion  which 
men  are  so  fond  of  talking  about  ?  Is  this  the  upshot  of  it  ?  No. 
So  far  as  the  immediate  application  of  this  language  to  those  who 
were  following  him  was  concerned,  we  are  to  take  into  consideration 
that  they  were  following  on  a  wrong  scent.  They  were  men  who 
were  not  religious-minded,  and  not  at  all  purposed  to  be  religious- 
minded.  For  the  most  part,  that  was  not  the  thing  for  which  they 
followed  Christ.  They  supposed — and  his  miracles  largely  confirmed 
the  impression — that  a  grand  good  time  was  coming,  in  which  all 
men  would  enjoy  themselves.  They  were  going  to  keep  their  sins  ; 
they  were  going  to  keep  their  feuds ;  they  were  going  to  keep  their 
little  quarrels;  bread  was  going  to  be  plenty;  there  was  to  be 
good  living  for  every  one ;  their  enemies  were  going  to  be  smitten 
down ;  they  were  going  to  have  a  gloriously  good  time ;  they  were 
going  to  be  men  and  swine  indifferently,  as  they  had  been  before ; 
and  Christ  was  going  to  lead.  What  they  were  after  was  the  loaves 
and  the  miracles.  It  was  not  Christ  that  they  sought  when  they 
wei-e  following  Christ,  but  their  own  pelf  Self-indulgence,  in  a 
larger  sphere,  ministered  by  divine  power,  in  a  miraculous  way ;  the 
gratification  of  theii*  vanity  by  victories  over  their  adversaries ;  and 
various  malign  feelings — these  entered  largely  into  the  composition. 

But  it  is  not  strange  in  the  light  of  what  occurred,  during  the 
last  three  years  of  his  earthly  career,  in  his  intercourse  with  his  disci- 
ples. On  his  last  journey  toward  Jerusalem,  and  while  they  were 
approaching  the  place  of  his  last  suffering,  there  fell  out  among  his 
bosom  disciples — and  one  who  was  involved  in  it  was  absolutely 
and  literally  his  bosom  disciple — a  scene  which  reveals  the  real  moral 
state  of  those  that  were  with  him,  and  shows  the  necessity  that  there 
was  of  some  such  dealing  as  that  employed  in  our  text.  By  turning 
to  the  tenth  chapter  of  Mark,  we  shall  find  that  scene  recounted : 

"  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  came  unto  him  " — another 
evangelist  modifies  it  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  mother  came  bringing 
her  two  sons ;  and  she  is  represented  as  having  spoken  to  Christ,  while 
here  the  men  themselves  are  represented  as  speaking  to  him ;  both 
statements  probably  being  true,  and  relating  to  the  same  history — 
*'  James  and  John  " — strange  names,  especially  that  of  Johii,  when 
'we  consider  his  repute,  as  the  affectionate,  the  pure,  the  thoroughly- 
inspired  disciple,  to  be  involved  in  such  business  as  this  ! — "  James 
and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  came  unto  him,  saying,  .Master,  we 
would  that  thou  shouldst  do  for  us  whatever  we  shall  desire." 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE,  403 

That  is  it,  the  world  over.  Men  want  a  religion  that  will  do  for 
them  just  what  they  desire. 

"And  he  said  unto  them,  what  would  ye  that  I  should  do  for  you? 
They  said  unto  him.  Grant  unto  us  that  we  may  sit,  one  on  thy  right 
hand,  and  the  other  on  thy  left  hand,  in  thy  glory." 

This  was  a  confidential  communication  between  these  office-seek- 
ers and  the  President  that  was  to  be ! 

"Jesus  said  unto  them,  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask," 

He  understood  what  they  supposed  his  kingdom  was  to  be ;  but 
the  real  kingdom  was  to  be  a  very  different  one  ;  and  his  mind  passed 
from  the  ignoble  conception  which  they  had,  to  the  lai-ger  one;  and, 
with  a  kind  of  ineffable  pity  and  sadness,  he  said,  "Can  ye  drink  of 
the  cup  that  I  drink  of?  and  be  baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  with  ?" 

They,  simple  and  foolish,  and  with  the  frankness  of  absolute  igno- 
rance, jumped  to  answer,  "  We  can," 

"  And  Jesus  said  unto  them.  Ye  shall  indeed  drink  of  the  cup  that 
I  drink  of;  and  with  the  baptism  that  I  am  baptized  withal,  shall  ye 
be  baptized ;  but  to  sit  on  my  right  hand  and  on  my  left  hand,  is  not 
mine  to  give ;  but  it  shall  be  given  to  them  for  whom  it  is  pre- 
pared." 

Now,  there  were  ten  other  men  who  wanted  just  this  office. 

"  When  the  ten  heard  it,  they  began  to  be  much  disi)leased  with 
James  and  John.  But  Jesus  called  them  to  him,  and  saith  unto 
them.  Ye  know  that  they  which  are  accounted  to  rule  over  the  Gen- 
tiles exercise  lordship  over  them ;  and  their  great  ones  exercise  au- 
thority upon  them.  But  so  shall  it  not  be  among  you  ;  but  whoso- 
ever will  be  great  among  you,  shall  be  your  minister  " — your  waiter 
— "  and  whosoever  of  you  will  be  chiefest,  shall  be  servant  of  all." 

What  a  singular  insight  this  is  into  the  actual  condition  of  the 
hearts  of  the  best  men  that  Christ  met,  and  whom  he  had  selected  as 
his  own  disciples — and  that,  too,  after  they  had  heard  him  for  two 
years  or  more !  On  this  last  solemn  journey  to  his  crucifixion,  and 
under  the  very  shadow  of  the  cross,  two  of  the  disciples  were  squab- 
bling as  to  who  should  have  precedence  in  his  earthly  kingdom  ;  and 
a  third  was  already  drawing  near  to  that  temptation  by  which  he 
betrayed  his  Master,  and  gave  him  over  to  death  ! 

If  this  was  the  condition  of  the  hearts  of  the  best  men,  what  do 
you  suppose  was  the  condition  of  the  hearts  of  the  great  rabble  that 
followed  Christ,  pouring  out  of  cities  and  villages?  Do  you  not  sup- 
pose that  they  were  thinking  of  the  chances  which  the  new  kingdom 
would  afford  for  the  gratification  of  their  lower  nature  ?  Do  you  not 
suppose  their  thoughts  were  occupied  with  the  fish  and  bread  that 
they  would  have  to  eat;  the  indolence  which  they  would  enjoy;  the 


404  THE   SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

bins  in  which  they  would  be  permitted  to  indulge ;  all  manner  of 
licenses  which  they  would  have  in  things  iniquitous  and  corrupt  ? 
And  was  it  not  necessary  that  there  should  be  some  incisive  teaching 
on  the  part  of  Christ?  Did  he  not  need  to  turn  back  and  say  to 
these  people,  "  Do  not  think  that  you  are  following  a  true  religion 
with  your  present  mind.  So  far  ai'e  you  from  it,  that  not  one  of  you 
could  follow  me.  You  love  a  thousand  things  better  than  you  do 
me ;  you  love  your  own  households  bettel" ;  you  love  your  own  will 
better ;  you  love  your  own  pleasure  better ;  and  yet,  my  service  is 
one  of  pure  loving.  In  the  state  of  pure  love,  there  is  notliing  higher 
than  love ;  and  he  that  loves,  must  be  willing  to  give  up,  for  the  sake 
of  his  love,  every  thing  but  honor  "  ? 

So  Christ  says,  "My  kingdom  is  a  kingdom  of  love ;  and  he  that 
does  not  come  to  me,  and  love  me  more  than  he  loves  any  thing  else, 
is  not  worthy  of  me.  My  love  cg-n  not  be  bought  at  any  j3rice  less 
than  that.  You  must  give  me  the  uttermost  of  love,  or  I  will  not 
take  it." 

Consider,  also,  this  teaching  in  its  apparent  demoralizing  effect. 
Literally  taken,  the  words  in  Luke  shock  us,  "  If  any  man  come  to 
me,  and  hate  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  liis  own  life  also,  he  can  not  be  my 
disciple."  There  are  none  of  those  little  quirks  which  people  are 
fond  of  putting  into  their  sentences  nowadays — those  precautionary 
interjected  clauses.  It  is  not,  "  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and,  as  it 
were,  hate  not  his  father,  and,  as  it  were,  hate  not  his  mother."  It 
is  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  is  sliot  as  from  a  warrior's  bow  right  at 
the  heart. 

There  is  somebody  in  terrible  earnest  here ;  and  there  is  some- 
thing here  that  is  worthy  of  this  earnestness. 

A  religion  which  really  made  it  a  fundamental  condition  that  a 
man  should  strip  off  all  his  tenderness,  and  all  his  gentleness,  and  all 
the  thousand  affections  which  God  is  at  such  infinite  jjains  to  culti- 
vate ;  a  religion  that  overturned  the  family,  and  destroyed  the  rela- 
tions between  parents  and  children,  and  all  the  other  relationships 
which  have  sprung  up  in  the  heart — such  a  religion  would  ruin  it- 
self in  less  than  a  generation.  It  would  turn  into  a  bitterness  which 
would  be  worse  than  the  most  malignant  fanaticism.  Therefore,  we 
suspect  this  to  be  metaphorical  language.  And  if  you  turn  to  Mat- 
thew, you  see  exactlj'-  what  the  interpretation  is. 

"He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  ')nore  than  me  is  not  worthy  of 
me."  If  a  man  loves  any  human  being  more  than  Christ  he  is  not 
worthy  of  Christ — that  is  the  declaration.  It  does  not  follow  that 
you  must  dispossess  yourself  of  all  human  loves  in  order  to  love 
Christ  acceptably;  but  it  does  follow  that  whenever  any  human  lovo 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  405 

comes  in  competition  Avitli  divine  love,  there  is  to  be  not  one  single 
moment  of  weigliing,  not  one  single  moment  of  chaffering,  not  one 
single  moment  of  hcsitntion.  For  our  earthly  loves  are  bnt  so  many 
silver  steps  leading  us  up  to  the  great  golden  love  of  God.  We 
learn  how  to  love  God  by  learning  how  to  love  our  earthly  parents. 
And  yet,  as  I  shall  show  by  and  by,  it  comes  to  pass,  frequently, 
that  these  loves,  which  ought  to  take  us  to  God,  only  stand  between 
God  and  our  souls.  And  then  the  question  is,  Wliich  of  the  two 
shall  we  take,  if  we  can  not  carry  both?  We  ought  to  love  them  in 
perspective.  We  ought  to  begin  by  loving  on  earth,  and  then  love 
all  the  way  up,  so  that  the  heart  shall  find  no  discoi-d,  and  no  dissev- 
ering of  itself.  Loving  at  the  least  should  go  on  loving  to  the  very 
greatest.  But  when,  in  the  various  vicissitudes  in  which  men's 
Avickedness  places  them,  God's  love  stands  on  one  side,  and  human 
love  stands  on  the  ottier;  when  affection  is  one  way,  and  duty  the 
other  ;  when  affection  cleaves  to  the  earth,  and  aspiration* and  man- 
hood tend  in  the  other  direction — there  is  not  to  be  a  moment's  doubt 
as  to  which  way  a  man  shall  go.  He  is  not  to  follow  his  love  toward 
unmanliness,  and  toward  the  world,  but  is  to  follow  his  conscience 
and  faith  toward  heaven  and  toward  God. 

Only  that  which  comes  between  the  soul  and  God,  .then,  is  to  be 
spurned  and  sacrificed.  If  any  affection,  how  dear  soever  it  maj''  be, 
jDersists  in  'coming  between  the  soul  and  God,  then  it  is  to  be  treated 
like  an  adversary.  If,  in  your  upward  tendency,  there  circle  around 
between  you  and  your  Saviour  the  dearest  friendship  or  love,  you 
are  to  say  to  it,  "  I  will  love  you,  but  I  must  love  Christ  m.ore,"  and 
press  it  away.  If  it  come  again,  and  again,  and  again,  and  every 
time  with  more  emphasis,  you  must  press  it  awaj^,  and  say,  "  Nay ; 
Christ  first,  and  then  thee."  But  if  it  become  pertinacious,  yea, 
aggressive ;  if  it  be  an  affection  that  will  not  let  you  rest,  but  assails 
you,  and  seeks  to  drag  you  down,  and  undo  you,  then  you  must  use 
a  lordlier  tone,  and  say,  "  Get  thee  away  !"  But  if  still,  against  your 
whole  power,  against  your  purest  self,  against  your  higher  nature,  it 
seeks  to  strip  you  of  all  that  belongs  to  you  in  common  with  God, 
then  hate  it.  If  it  comes  to  that,  put  your  soul  against  it,  as  vou  do 
against  an  enemy,  no  matter  what  tlie  love  is ;  for  any  love  that  will 
take  you  away  from  God  will  in  the  end  take  you  away  from  your 
best  self — from  your  hope  and  aspiration. 

No  man  can  interpret  this  intensity  of  feeling  except  from  the 
analogy  and  experience  of  love.  For  when  one  is  in  earnest  in  love, 
when  the  very  summer  of  loving  is  reached,  that  love  must  rule,  no 
matter  what  suffers,  and  no  matter  what  is  sacrificed.  IIow  strangely 
we  see  this  in  life  !  and  how  beautiful  is  the  exemplification  that  life 
gives  us  of  this  great  truth ! 


406  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

In  the  household,  to  the  child  that  always  has  been  docile,  and  has 
yielded  readily  to  counsel,  the  hour  and  the^uoment  comes,  and  love 
dawns  in  the  heart  to  some  kindred  soul.  And  growincr,  as  the 
spring  grows,  fragrant,  musical,  sweetly  blossomed  all  over,  this 
gi'eat  love  takes  possession  of  the  whole  sonl ;  and,  if  it  is  not 
thwarted,  it  throws  new  light  upon  father  and  mother,  upon  God, 
and  upon  duty ;  and  the  world  is  transformed,  and  people  are  trans- 
figured ;  and  the  glory  of  God  rests  upon  all.  Oh  !  that  the  virgin 
simjjlicity  and  freshness  of  a  true  love  could  abide  !  Ohi  that  those 
rude  winds  of  experience  did  not  shake  down  all  the  freshness  of  the 
dew  that  rests  upon  a  true  love  !  Oh  !  that  it  could  be  kept  and 
carried  on.  Alas!  of  all  the  sad  things  in  this  world,  the  shattering 
of  early  love  is  the  saddest !  But  while  the  soul  stands  towering  in 
the  greatness  of  this  new  and  conscious  love,  let  fi-iends  seek  to  sep- 
arate those  that  thus  love,  and  see  with  what  strange  avulsion  the 
lover  turfts  away  from  friends.  And  if  the  friends  persist,  see  how 
the  lover  begins  to  gather  winter  on  his  brow,  and  in  his  eyes  to 
look  ice.  And  if  the  friends  still  persist,  and  would  fain  rend  asun- 
der this  new-found  life  between  soul  and  soul,  how  does  the  lover  set 
at  naught  parents,  and  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  friends,  and  neigh- 
bors, and  give  up  every  thing,  and  go  out  of  the  father's  house  disin- 
herited and  a  pauper,  rather  than  give  up  the  one  loved  !  Tlius  is 
fulfilled  in  your  own  household  the  very  figure  of  the  Saviour. 

A  great  love  will  have  its  own  Avay,  and  will  array  itself  against, 
and  hate,  whatever  thing  shall  attempt  to  estop  it.  And  Christ 
says,  "  When  the  greatness  of  the  sours*love  to  me  is  taken  into  the 
heart,  every  thing  which  hinders  it  must  be  put  down.  And  if  it 
contends,  it  is  to  be  hated  and  counted  an  enemy.  In  other  words, 
you  are  to  do  by  Christ  just  what  you  do  in  the  household,  and  by- 
each  other. 

Do  you  not  see  it,  now  that  the  offensiveness  of  this  declaration  is 
taken  away?  Does  not  this  explanation  bring  it  within  the  bounds 
of  triie  sympathy  ?  Is  there  not  something  very  noble  in  it  ?  Woiild 
you  want  one  like  Christ  to  come  with  such  a  love  as  his  for  you,  and 
then  be  content  with  any  thing  short  of  this  heroic  and  overflowing 
love  on  your  part  ?  Would  you  want  God  to  come  to  your  soul,  and 
suffer  you  to  give  to  him  a  farthing's  worth  of  love — a  mere  penurious 
parceling  out  of  your  afiection,  such  as  you  bestow  upon  many  others  ? 
It  would  not  be  worthy  of  the  divine  nature.  It  would  blast  all  our 
hope  and  all  our  joy,  which  stand  in  the  greatness  and  the  inexpug- 
nable integrity  of  God. 

Consider,  further,  that  such  love  to  Christ  is  not  necessarily  de- 
veloped in  such  inflammatory  forms  as  to  require  this  action  ;  and 
that  this  declaration  represents  the   ultimate  necessity,  and  not  the 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  407 

average  experience.  For,  where  men  have  been  brought  np  in  tlie 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord,  it  frequently  happens  that,  all 
their  affections  having  been  trained  together,  they  are  in  such  a  state 
of  preparation  that,  when  the  hour  of  religious  development  comes, 
and  they  come  into  sympathy  with  Christ,  they  come  whole-hearted. 
And  such  persons  are  never  called  to  choose.  There  is  no  need  of 
choice,  in  their  cases.  Thus,  men's  circumstances  sometimes  favor 
them,  help  them,  instead  of  hindering  them. 

There  are  those  who  find  that  their  social  relationships  interfere 
with  their  religious  development,  and  of  whom  we  shall  speak  in  a 
moment;  but  there  are  many  others  whose  parents,  whose  brothers 
and  sisters,  whose  houseliolds,  whose  teachers,  whose  familiar  friends, 
are  already  of  Christ ;  and  such  persons  are  doing  violence  to  them- 
selves not  to  go  toward  Christ  in  a  true  love;  and  when  ilie  hour 
comes,  and  their  hearts  begin  to  move  heavenward,  every  thing  helps 
them.  They  never  are  called  to  put  to  proof  this  command  of 
Christ. 

I  have  in  me  that  which  would  lead  me  to  fight  and  die  before  I 
would  see  a  robber  dispossess  me  of  my  treasure  in  my  house.  I 
probably  shall  never  have  occasion  to  test  it ;  but  it  is  there.  Do  you 
suppose  any  thing  would  terrify  me  if  I  knew  that  my  children,  or  my 
servants,  or  any  that  were  under  my  roof,  toward  whom  I  feel  as 
a  general  feels  toward  his  soldiers,  were  in  danger  ?  If  a  murderer 
or  I'obber,  with  intrusive  violence,  were  to  enter  my  dwelling,  would 
I  not,  without  hesitation,  and  with  pistol  and  club  in  hand,  let  them 
know  what  generalship  was  ?  And  so  would  any  man  that  was  not 
a  sneak.  A  man  who  runs  away  from  a  thief  in  his  house  is  a  sneak, 
and  does  not  deserve  a  house.  No  man  that  will  suffer  liimself  to  be 
despoiled,  and  will  put  all  that  he  has  in  his  castle  at  the  mercy  of  the 
robber  and  the  murderer,  because  it  is  not  prudent  to  risk  any  thing, 
is  beneath  contempt.  There  would  be  less  of  crime,  if  the  com- 
munity had  a  higher  sense  of  manhor)d  under  such  circumstances. 
This  spirit  is  in  me  ;  but  I  probably  shall  never  have  an  oppoi-tunit}'- 
of  putting  it  in  practice — and  partly  because  it  is  known  to  be  there  ! 
You  probably  will  not ;  but  still,  if  the  time  should  come,  would  you 
not  play  the  part  of  men?  He  that  suffers  his  house  to  be  broken 
open,  and  his  goods  to  be  spoiled,  when  he  could  at  some  personal 
risk  hinder  it,  is  not  worthy  of- citizenship ;  is  not  worthy  of  the 
name  of  patriot ;  is  not  worthy  to  be  my  neighbor;  is  not  worthy  to 
be  called  a  man.  You  may  never  be  called  to  put  to  proof  that 
courage,  that  fidelity,  and  that  feeling  of  responsibility  as  a  citizen 
and  a  man,  which  would  lead  you,  at  any  moment,  to  peril  your  life, 
rather  than  that  a  vile  insult  should  be  left  staining  you  and  your 
household  ;  yet  it  must  be  there. 


408  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

It  is  the  same  in  regard  to  our  Saviour.  There  are  thousands  and 
thousands  of  instances  in  which  men  are  not  called,  and  most  of  you 
probably  will  not  be  called,  to  choose  between  Christ  and  some  other 
object  of  affection ;  but  if  the  time  should  ever  come  in  Avhich  you 
were  called  to  make  the  choice,  then  the  feeling  of  love  to  Christ, 
stronger  than  love  for  any  thing  else,  must  be  developed. 

I  do  not  come  to-night,  therefore,  to  say  that  the  first  evidence 
which  you  give  of  religion  must  be  that  you  are  willing  to  give  up 
every  body.  I  do  not  Avant  you  should  give  up  any  bod3\  I 
do  not  present  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  you  to-night,  saying,  "  If 
you  love  him,  you  must  be  conscious  in  your  soul  of  not  loving  your 
father  and  your  mother."  I  do  not  say  that  when  his  bright  image 
dawns  on  your  heart,  you  must- feel  that  every  thing  else  drops  and 
falls  away.  I  preach  no  such  doctrine.  But  I  do  say,  that  when 
called  of  Christ,  and  your  conscience  bears  testimony  to  the  higher 
duty  of  loving  him,  if  you  find  that  you  are  hindered  from  the  full 
discharge  of  your  love,  you  must  have  that  latent  resource  of  fidelity 
to  your  affection  which  shall  enable  you  to  dispossess  every  thing 
and  every  body,  and  mount  up  to  Him  that  is  chief  among  ten 
thousand,  and  altogether  lovely.  But  it  is  an  alternative  in  the  soul, 
and  not  an  experience  to  be  used  every  day. 

This  reserve  j^ower  being  within  us,  there  will  be  occasions,  per- 
haps more  than  some  suspect,  for  the  use  of  it.  Sometimes,  for  in- 
stance, parents  are  absolute  unbelievers  in  religion — nay,  are  even 
haters  of  the  trutli.  It  is  not  needful  to  show  by  what  steps  they  have 
become  so  ;  but  there  are  parents  who  seem  to  have  a  feeling  of 
hatred  toward  the  truth.  And  to  them  it  is  a, cause,  not  only  of  grief, 
but  of  anger  and  positive  rage,  when  tlieir  children  begin  to  have  re- 
ligious asjiirations  and  religious  yearnings.  When  the  religious  life  be 
■gins  to  dawn  in  their  cliildren,  I  have  known  parents  to  be  filled  with 
quarrelsomeness  and  bitter  opposition.  And  if  the  child  is  very 
timid,  or  is  not  conscientious,  it  is  trampled  down  and  overborne. 
Yet  how  sad  it  is  that  there  should  be  hearts  tliat  sigh  and  cry,  home- 
sick for  God  and  for  heaven,  all  their  life,  and  tliat  there  should  be 
none  to  run  to  their  succor !  There  are  many  who  can  neither  go  to 
Christ,  nor  get  over  their  longing  to  go,  sucli  is  the  domination  of 
their  parents.  They  can  not  give  up  tlieir  desire  to  follow  Christ, 
and  yet  they  dare  not  openly  follow  him.  Woe  be  to  him  who 
neither  walks  in  the  way  of  godliness,  nor  will  suffer  them  to 
walk  there  who  lain  would  !  Woe  be  to  him  who  will  not  hear 
the  voice  of  God,  nor  suffer  them  to  hear  it  whose  open  ear  Tistens 
for  the  call  out  of  heaven !  Such  there  are  ;  and  to  such  I  say, 
Though  your  father  and  your  mother  deride  you;  though  they 
threaten  you  with  all  ill-will  and  disinheritance;  though  they  annoy 


TEE  SUPREME 'ALLEGIANCE.  409 

you  with  excessive  annoyances,  nevertlieless,  Christ  says,  "  He  that 
loves  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me." 

Sometimes  parents  are  very  worldly-minded,  though  in  a  certain 
sort  they  are  believers,  and  profess  to  be  believers.  There  are  many 
who  believe  just  enough  to  shield  their  consciences,  and  save  them- 
selves from  being  counted  infidel.  They  believe  in  a  kind  of  mutual 
protective  Christianity,  which  takes  care  of  their  anxieties  and  fears, 
and  allays  all  their  trouble  in  these  respects — nothing  more.  The 
idea  of  a  perfected  manhood,  of  a  cleansed  conscience,  and  of  a  puri- 
fied heart ;  the  idea  of  an  imagination  radiant  with  intersphering, 
lieavenly  truths  ;  the  idea  of  a  great  overruling  aftection,  that  like  a 
sun  pours  its  light  down  upon  all  lesser  aifections,  has  not  occurred 
to  them.  It  is  no  pai't  of  their  conception.  They  have  no  desire  in 
that  direction.  They  have  a  church  religion.  They  say,  "  If  I  will 
give  up  so  much  every  Sunday,  if  I  will  pay  the  minister,  if  I  will  go 
to  church,  if  I  will  read  the  Bible,  if  I  will  do  this,  that,  and  the 
other  thing.  Religion,  will  you  take  care  of  me  ?"  And  that  kind  of 
religion  always  says,  "  Yes,  I  will  insure  you."  And  so  there  are 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  people  in  the  community  who  have  just 
religion  enough  not  to  have  any  at  all !  The  little  religion  which 
they  already  have  is  put  out.  They  say,  "  We  believe  in  religion  ; 
but  it  is  a  reasonable,  rational  religion.  This  world  is  a  good  world, 
and  God  has  given  the  bounties  of  this  world  to  enjoy  ;  and  a  grateful 
heart  should  take  these  bounties  and  enjoy  them.  Therefore  let  us  eat 
and  drink,  and  praise  God  by  being  happy."  And  so  party  after  party, 
and  dance  after  dance,  and  elegant  debauch  after  elegant  debauch,  fol- 
low. They  want  society  to  be  radiant  and  sparkling.  And  for  them, 
any  thing  but  the  undertones  of  the  judgment-day  to  come;  any 
thing  but  those  long  wails  that  set  in  from  the  other  world,  as  the 
surf  thunders  on  the  shore,  telling  of  distant  storms ;  any  thing  but  a" 
religion  that  disturbs  their  brilliant,  sparkling  life. 

Under  such  circumstances,  a  child,  much  loved  and  beautiful, 
whose  curls  are  beautiful,  whose  eyes  are  beautiful,  whose  brow  is 
beautiful,  whose  lips  are  beautiful,  over  whose  face  advancing  years 
throw  grace,  whose  deepening  sensibility  gives  more  beauteous  ex- 
pression to  that  which  nature  made  beautiful  at  first,  who  is  the 
coyest,  sweetest,  charmingest  creature  of  the  whole  neighborhood, 
and  who  is  the  admiration  of  every  one — such  a  child,  just  at  the 
time  when  the  father  and  mother  have  anticipated  that  she  would 
come  out,  and  make  a  sensation,  and  walk  easily  queen,  is  vexatiously 
convicted  and  converted.  And  there  is  all  their  trouble.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  that  Methodist  meeting,  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  rant- 
ing preacher,  over  there,  it  would  not  have  happened  !      And  here  is 


410  TEE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

this  huge  discord  in  this  family.  Here  is  the  child  that  was  the  joy 
of  their  hearts,  and  the  pride  of  their  life,  and  tliat  was  to  form  such 
a  splendid  connection,  (for  already  there  were  ever  so  many  eyes 
directed  that  way,)  and  was  to  build  up  their  family,  carried 
away  with  religious  excitement.  And  all  their  hopes  are  crushed. 
The  father  is  in  a  rage,  and  the  mother  is  in  a  grief;  and  they  will  not 
have  it  so.  The  child,  with  simple  modesty,  is  patient  but  tenacious, 
and  cures  storms  in  the  outer  circle  by  the  deep  peace  which  God 
gives  the  soul  in  the  closet.  She  is  still  loving,  and  more  obedient 
than  ever;  but  she  is  true  to  her  own  inward  love.  Having  tasted 
the  better  portion,  she  will  not  give  it  up.  And  so  great  has  some- 
times been  the  rage  of  the  fiither  that  he  has  actually  driven  his  child 
from  his  door,  and  dispossessed  her.  It  was  such  a  case  that  gave 
birth  to  one  of  our  most  touching  hymns.  I  could  almost  wish  that 
there  might  be  more  persons  driven  out  from  home  under  tlie  same 
circumstances. 

The  child  of  a  wealthy  man  in  England  who  had  all  his  earthly 
hopes  fixed  on  her,  returning  from  a  ball,  heard  a  Methodist  meeting 
going  on,  and  went  in ;  and  the  recital  of  what  the  love  of  Christ 
had  done  for  various  persons  charmed  her ;  and  by  the  blessing  of 
God's  Spirit,  she  was  converted.  And  when  she  made  known  her 
faith  and  purpose,  her  father  cast  her  off,  and  she  was  obliged  to  go 
away  from  home.     And  this  hymn  resulted  from  that  circumstance  : 

Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 

All  to  leave  and  follow  thee  ; 
Naked,  poor,  despised,  forsaken. 

Thou,  from  hence,  my  all  shalt  be. 
Perish  every  fond  ambition, 

All  I've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known  ; 
.Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition ! 

God  and  heaven  are  still  my  own. 


Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

They  have  left  my  Saviour,  too  ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me, 

Tliou  art  not,  like  them,  untrue ; 
And  whilst  thou  shalt  smile  upon  me, 

God  of  wisdom,  love,  and  might, 
Foes  may  hate,  and  friends  may  scorn  me  ; 

Show  thy  face,  and  all  is  bright. 

Man  may  trouble  and  distress  me, 
'Twill  but  drive  me  to  thy  breast , 

Life  with  trials  hard  may  press  me, 
Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  rest. 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  411 

Oh  !  'tis  not  in  grief  to  harm  me, 

While  thy  love  is  left  to  me  ; 
Oh  !  'twere  not  in  joy  to  charm  me, 

Were  that  joy  unmixed  witli  thee. 

Soul,  then  know  thy  full  salvation, 

Rise  o'er  sin,  and  fear,  and  cares  ; 
Joy  to  find  in  every  station     , 

Something  still  to  do  or  bear. 
Thinls  what  spirit  dwells  within  thee  ; 

Think  what  Father's  smiles  are  thine  ; 
Think  that  Jesus  died  to  win  thee  ; 

Child  of  heaven,  canst  thou  repine  ? 

Haste  thee  on  from  grace  to  glory. 

Armed  by  faith,  and  winged  by  prayer  ; 
Heaven's  eternal  day's  before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  shall  guide  thee  there. 
Soon  shall  close  thy  earthly  mission. 

Soon  shall  pass  thy  pilgrim  days  ; 
Hope  shall  change  to  glad  fruition, 

Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise.  ' 

It  is  sometimes  the  case  tliat  a  gentle  and  dependent  natnre, 
leaning,  and  accustomed  to  lean  round  about  her  husband,  as  a  vino 
around  the  strong  trunk  of  a  tree,  finds  that  her  dawning  religious 
desires  are  most  offensive  to  him.  This  is  trial.  We  talk  of  death, 
we  talk  of  bereavements,  we  talk  of  the  loss  of  property  ;  but  I  tell 
you,  no  person  knows  trouble  till  he  knows  it  in  the  soul ;  and  no 
person  knows  trouble  in  the  soul,  till  he  knows  it  as  the  struggle  of  a 
real,  pure,  and  deep  love.  That  is  trouble.  And  when  one  has  really 
given  her  life  to  another ;  twined  her  thoughts  around  his  intellect ; 
cast  her  imagination  as  a  mingling  beam  with  his  radiant  thoughts  ; 
divided  her  very  self,  as  it  were,  her  life  counseling  with  his  whole 
life — when,  under  such  circumstances,  she  is  called,  in  spite  of  his 
refusal,  to  step  forth  and  be  Christ's,  how  painful  and  cruel  it  is  ! 
And  yet,  over  against  just  such  an  one  stands  the  Saviour,  saying, 
"  Any  person  that  loves  husband  and  wife  better  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me." 

If  possible,  the  soul's  situation  is  even  more  critical  when  the 
whole  life  has  been  invested  in  a  great  love  not  yet  consummated ; 
when  that  affection,  as  it  were,  casts  up  streams  like  the  northern 
lights,  and  fills  the  whole  heavens  with  ever-changing,  strange,  and 
witching  imaginations.  For  in  the  early  days  of  love,  there  is  a  vast 
amount  of  imagination,  and  a  smaller  amount  of  deep  feeling  than  in 
later  days,  when  love  consolidates,  and  so  largely  takes  on  the  form 
of  volition,  and  of  conduct,  and  of  settled  character.     And  in  these 


412  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

early  days  of  coming  affection  how  many  have  made  shipwreck  ! 
How  many  have  found  that  they  were  to  choose  between  their  love 
and  their  Christ,  and  have  not  had  the  strength  to  choose  Christ ! 
And  even  in  that  moment,  even  in  all  those  circumstances,  blessed 
be  God,  the  terms  are  not  let  down,  and  Christ  still  says,  "He  that 
loves  any  thing  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me."  And  let  me 
tell  you  that  any  soul  that,  for  the  sake  of  a  lower  love,  will  give  up 
Christ  and  the  greater  love,  has  become,  by  that  very  choice,  less 
■worthy  of  the  love  of  that  one  for  whom  it  has  yielded  up  duty. 
There  is  nothing  tliat  consecrates  the  soul  so  mucli  as  a  heroic  achieve- 
ment. There  is  nothing  that  renders  a  man  or  woman  or  child  so 
truly  lovable,  and  so  much  to  be  admired,  as  the  capacity  of  doing 
a  great  thing  in  the  kingdom  of  righteousness.  And  I  always  feel 
that  where  a  child  steps  forth  simply,  gently,  lovingly,  in  the  way  of 
duty,  it  is  laying  up  admiration  for  after-years ;  because  by  and  by 
it  will  be  confessed,  by  those  who  opposed  the  child,  that  he  or  she 
was  in  the  right. 

There  is  many  a  husband  who  resisted  his  wife's  importunity,  and 
would  not  consent  to  her  embracing  Christianity.  She  nevertheless 
broke  through  his  restraint  by  the  streaming  of  Christ's  love,  and 
became  an  open  and  avowed  'Christian.  And  he,  in  after  years, 
blessed  God  for  her  example  of  heroism  which  led  him  in  the  right 
way,  and  was  the  means  of  his  conversion. 

You  may  be  sure  that,  when  speaking  of  these  critical  cases  to- 
night, I  am  not  speaking  without  instances  in  my  mind.  I  have  not 
a  few  of  them.  There  are  some  most  tender  and  touching  instances 
in  this  congregation,  of  persons  whose  hearts  are  quivering,  and 
yearning  to  do  their  duty,  and  are  anxious  to  meet  the  wants  of 
love.  And  to  all  of  you  I  say,  "  You  will  best  promote  even  your 
earthly  loves  by  listening  to  the  voice  of  the  Lord.  Take  Christ, 
and  you  can  not  lose  any  thing  that  will  be  a  final  loss.  Take 
Christ,  and  he  will  give  you  back  a  thousand-fold  more  than  you 
abandon  for  his  sake."  In  another  evangelist  it  is  said  that  those 
who  follow  Christ  in  all  things,  forsaking  father  and  mother,  husband 
and  wife,  and  houses  and  lands,  receive  again,  in  this  world,  all  that 
they  have  given  up,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  eternal ;  and  in 
thousands  of  instances  the  very  heroism  by  which  one  dispossesses 
himself  is  blessed,  in  the  spirit  of  God,  to  the  recovery  of  the  thing 
lost. 

Many  a  mother  has  offered  her  sick  child  to  God,  saying,  "  Take 
it,  if  thou  wilt ;"  and  from  that  hour  the  child  began  to  recover;  and 
God  gave  it  back  to  her.  Many  a  man  has  stood  on  the  brink  of 
destruction  in  his  ambition,  or  in  his  property  relations,  and  said, 
"Lord,  thy  will  be  douej"  and  in  that  act  he  has  become  a  fit  stew- 


TEE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  413 

ard  of  his  property;  and  God  has  restored  it  to  him.  And  so,  many 
and  many  a  one  who  trusts  God  and  loves  Christ,  and  is  willing  to 
yield  obedience  to  the  divine  will,  but  is  hindered,  will  soon  find 
that  the  very  obstacles  which  stood  in  his  way  have  a  new  tendency, 
and  are  helping  him. 

There  are  cases  of  a  different  nature,  as  where  one  is  called  to 
follow  Christ  into  another  church,  leaving  that  in  which  he  was  bred. 
Such  cases  can  never  occur  in  this  church,  because  the  door  out  of  it 
is  just  as  Avide  as  the  door  into  it.  The  spirit  of  this  church  is  such 
that  if  you  live  Christianly  you  may  live  in  the  communion  of  any 
church  that  you  shall  select  on  the  earth.  There  is  no  denomination 
and  no  sect  with  us.  You  may  go  into  the  Presbyterian  church,  and 
you  shall  go  with  my  good  will,  and  the  good  will  of  your  brethren. 
You  may  go  into  the  Swedenborgian  sect,  and  you  shall  carry  with 
you  my  good  will  and  your  brethren's.  You  may  join  the  Episcopa- 
lians, and  my  hearty  "God  bless  you"  shall  go  with  you.  You  may 
unite  yourself  to  the  hoary  old  Roman  Church,  and  still  I  will  say, 
"  God  bless  you."  There  are  in  that  church  means  of  grace  enough 
to  save  any  soul  that  Avill  be  faithful  to  its  light  and  to  its  du- 
ties. And  although  I  think  there  are  some  churches  which  ai'e  far 
preferable  to  others,  although  I  think  the  likelihood  of  becoming 
eminent  in  the  Christian  life  is  greater  in  some  communions  than  in 
others,  yet  I  believe  there  are  none  so  far  from  Christ  that  you  can 
not  have  guiding  light  enough  in  them.  So,  instead  of  fighting 
churches,  I  prefer  to  spend  the  whole  force  of  my  life  in  giving  em- 
phasis to  the  inward  life  of  godliness.  Therefore,  I  say  to  you,  Live 
as  becometh  the  children  of  Christ,  and  then  go  where  you  please. 
I  will  not  hinder  you. 

But  it  is  not  so  everywhere.  There  are  many  churches  that 
believe  there  is  salvation  in  other  churches  ;  while  there  are  many 
that  say  boldly,  "  There  is  no  salvation  out  of  this  church.  You 
must  be  saved  by  this  church,  if  saved  at  all."  If  they  think  so,  I 
do  not  see  how  they  are  going  to  save  themselves  from  being  bigoted. 
If  a  man  believes  there  is  salvation  by  staying  in  a  certain  church, 
and  damnation  by  going  out  of  it,  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  resorts  to 
violence  and  persecution  such  as  have  existed  in  all  past  ages,  and 
such  as  will  continue  to  exist,  I  suppose,  in  all  ages  to  come. 

Single  individuals,  and  even  single  churches,  here  and  there,  are 
tolerant  and  liberal ;  but  no  denomination  is  tolerant  and  liberal  as  a 
whole.  There  is  no  denomination  that  loves  Christ  more  than  it 
loves  the  organization  of  religion  on  earth.  I  fear  that,  taken  as  a 
whole,  the  human  element  in  the  church  is  loved  more  than  religion 
itself 

And  so  it  comes  to  pass,  frequently,  that  persons  are  drawn  out 


414  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

of  the  church  in  which  they  were  reared.  They  say,  "  I  shall  die 
where  I  am.  I  am  like  a  tree  in  an  old  orchard  where  the  ground  is 
exhausted,  and  I  long  to  be  transplanted  in  fresh  soil."  And  it  is 
better,  oftentimes,  that  persons  should  change  their  church  connec- 
tions. There  are  persons  in  this  congregation  that  I  think  would  be 
better  oiF  if  they  could  go  somewhere  else.  I  have  labored  so  long 
without  producing  much  effect  upon  them,  that  I  can  not  but  think 
another  hand  and  another  soil  would  bring  from  them  more  fruit  than 
they  bear  here.  And  I  see  persons  in  other  congregations  that  I 
think  would  be  profited  more  here  than  there.  And  sometimes  they 
think  so.  Restraints  are  brought  to  bear  on  them,  and  they  are 
kept  where  they  are  ;  but  there  are  many  who  look  up  and  out,  and 
long  to  follow  their  true  light.  They  are  smothering.  And  they 
say,  "  I  never  can  live  a  Christian  life  where  I  am."  In  God's  name, 
then,  go  where  you  can.  There  may  be  a  thousand  reasons  why  you 
should  be  patient,  and  permit  those  who  are  in  authority  over  you  to 
nave  their  full  way  for  persuasion  ;  but  when  the  time  comes  that 
you  say,  "  My  Lord  is  not  here,  and  if  I  am  to  live  a  Cluistian  life  I 
must  go  where  I  can  get  light  and  nourishment,"  then  it  is  your  duty 
to  go.  If  you  love  any  thing  more  than  Christ  in  you  tlie  hope  of 
glory,  woe  be  to  you  ! 

There  are  those  who  are  called  from  a  skeptical  life.  Skeptics 
generally  think  they  have  no  human  nature.  They  are  accustomed 
to  think  that  they  have  hereditary  beliefs ;  and  they  orb  themselves 
into  a  sort  of  philosophical  liberty,  and  feel  that  they,  being  free  and 
manly,  and  going  where  they  please,  have  almost  dispossessed  human 
nature.  But  human  nature  is  about  the  same  in  the  skeptic  that  it 
is  in  the  believer.  There  is  about  the  same  cowardice  in  the  one 
that  there  is  in  the  other.  The  skeptic  docs  not  dare  to  follow  his 
own  reason,  because  people  will  ridicule  him  ;  and  the  believer  does 
not  dare  to  follow  his  convictions  for  the  same  reason.  Where  a 
man,  having  thrown  overboard  the  church  and  religion,  is  by  and  by 
met  by  God's  Spirit,  and  the  old  truths  begin  to  have  new  buds  in 
him,  he  can  not  but  yearn.  And  human  nature  being  just  the  same 
in  that  man  that  it  is  in  you,  he  can  not  help  thinking  what  people 
would  say  who  have  heard  him  reason  as  he  has  reasoned,  if  they 
knew  what  a  change  had  come  over  his  feelings.  He  can  not  help 
saying,  "  "What  will  my  companions  think  and  do  ?"  And  he  is  just 
as  much  in  the  thrall  of  fear  as  any  one.  And  if  any  person  feels,  "  I 
am  steadily  coming  to  a  clearer  faith ;  my  heart  is  yearning,  and  be- 
coming deeper  and  deeper  in  its  needs,"  I  say  to  him,  "  O  sinner !" 
— for  he  is  just  that,  and  nothing  else — "  if  Christ  calls  you,' rise  up 
and  follow  him.  If  any  thing  stands  between  you  and  Christ,  you 
are  not  worthy  of  him." 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  41  5 

Consider  the  boldness  and  the  generousness  of  tlie  spirit  of  this 
passage  ;  and  the  nobleness  with  which  men  should  come  to  Christ, 
as  indicated  here.  Consider  what  Christ  is ;  and  especially,  what  he 
is  to  you.  Consider  what  it  is  to  have  one  who  is  in  himself  the 
sum  of  all  those  excellences  which,  in  their  separate  and  scattered 
elements,  you  so  much  admire,  and  desire  to  see,  among  men.  I  not 
only  tliink  of  God  along  that  line  of  analogy  which  is  derived  from 
human  nature  and  human  character,  but  I  love  to  think  that  there  is 
in  him  a  perfection  of  these  things  which  I  see  and  admire  in  their  sim- 
j^le  forms  in  men.  My  God  is,  above  all  other  things.  Poet.  I  that 
admire  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  and  Chaucer,  love  to  think  that 
these  were  shoots  thrown  out,  and  that  the  great  Singer  is  my  God. 
I  follow  the  footsteps  of  men  that  have  walked  in  the  way  of  beauty 
— the  carvers,  and  painters,  and  builders,  and  makers  of  music — all 
the  children  of  art ;  and  I  say.  When  we  stand  with  God,  we  shall 
find  him  to  be  the  great  Architect,  the  great  Builder,  the  great  Moul- 
der of  beauty,  the  great  Painter.  He  lets  us  see  from  day  to  day 
something  of  the  frescoes  which  he  has  painted  in  the  heaven  that  is 
above  our  head  with  a  prodigality  that  is  amazing.  And  I  loVe  to 
think  of  God  as  the  sum  of  all  these  excellences.  Wiser  is  he  than 
the  wisest  statesman  that  attracts  admiration  ;  more  eloquent  tlian 
the  finest  speaker ;  more  lordly  than  the  bravest  warrior  ;  more 
kingly  than  the  highest  potentate  ;  more'  glorious  than  the  most 
beauteous  spirit  that  ever  walked  upon  the  earth.  All  that  you  see 
in  the  faculties  of  men  orb  themselves  up  and  form  in  him  infinite  at- 
tributes. And  there  is  a  wealth  in  him,  such  that  when  you  stand 
in  his  presence  alone,  it  will  be  as  if  you  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
whole  universe  of  poets,  and  artists,  and  orators,  and  noble  natures, 
God  himself  being  all  of  them,  and  the  fountain  from  which  all  of 
them  draw  their  supplies. 

And  oh  !  that  he  should  want  my  soul  !  I  have  no  doubt 
that  many  a  woman  has  said,  when  asked  to  be  the  wife  of  some 
great  nature,  "  It  can  not  be !"  True  love  is  always  modest. 
It  is  always  grateful.  It  always  wonders,  "  Why  am  I  beloved  ?" 
It  always  says,  "  IIow  can  I  repay  this  love?"  And  to  think 
that  God  wants  me !  To  think  that  this  glori(>us  excellence,  the 
plenitude  of  the  beauty  and  power  and  wisdom  of  heaven,  comes 
to  me — nay,  that  it  comes  to  me  in  the  manifestation  of  Jesus  Christ  j 
that  it  comes  to  me  with  all  the  sweetness  of  attraction,  and  with 
all  the  self-sacrifice  and  suffering  of  dying  love !  And  yet  God, 
from  whose  brow  flames  beauty,  and  in  whose  bosom  love  proudly 
sits,  says  to  me,  "  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart,"  and  proffers  his  own  ; 
and  if  I  were  generous,  with  what  quick  response  should  I  love  him ! 
If  I  were  honorable,  with  what  instant  apprehension  should  I  go  to 
him  !    If  I  were  possessed  of  true  manliness,  should  I  not  know  the 


416  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

dignity  of  this  pi'offer?     Should  I  not  know  what  affection  that  was 
with  which  I  was  called  ? 

No  magistrate  can  call  you  without  imposing  on  you  some 
sense  of  honor.  If  one  who  stands  in  a  high  place  notices  you,  and 
puts  confidence  in  you,  it  affords  you  pleasure  and  gratification. 
Every  man  especially  feels  that  it  is  a  great  honor  to  receive  atten- 
tion from  one  occupying  the  supreme  position  in  the  nation.  And 
yet,  he  that  is  higher  than  stars,  higher  tlian  suns,  higher  than  an- 
gels, higher  than  princes  and  powers  and  principalities,  higher  than 
all,  and  whose  name  is  above  every  name,  deigns  to  call  you  his  child 
and  to  offer  you  a  Father's  affection,  and  a  Redeemer's  love,  and  says, 
"  Come,  be  mine,  and  follow  me  !" 

Oh!  be  ashamed  of  those  equivocations  with  which  you  meet  this 
call.  Be  ashamed  of  your  hesitancy.  Be  ashamed,  above  all,  of 
weighing  the  love  of  God  against  your  interest.  A  man  says, 
"  Which  is  worth  more,  my  pleasure  or  my  God  ?"  A  man  says,  "  I 
am  young  and  fresh,  and  God  is  great  and  generous,  and  I  will  take 
ray  pleasure  until  I  am  thirty-five  or  forty  years  old;  and  then,  when 
the  quick  edge  of  satisfaction  shall  have  worn  off,  I  will  take  my  old 
age  to  God  !"  Is  there  in  hell  any  thing  that  is  meaner,  or  any  thing 
that  is  more  dishonoring  to  a  true  manhood,  than  that  ?  If  God's 
love  is  worth  having,  it  is  worth  repaying  with  yours  from  the  very 
morning  of  your  life,  and  the  whole  of  it,  and  in  endless  continuity. 
Men  say,  "  Which  is  better,  the  love  of  God,  or  my  riches  ?  Can  I 
not  keep  them  both  ?  or,  can  I  not  keep  this  awhile,  and  then  take 
that  ?"  And  so  they  put  off  the  love  of  God  and  the  obedience 
of  the  Gospel,  hoping  that  at  the  last  day,  on  their  dying-bed,  some- 
thing will  be  wrought  by  which,  having  lived  to  the  flesh — to  vanity, 
and  pride,  and  lust,  and  all  that  is  worldly  and  ungodly — they  shall 
be  varnished  over  and  get  into  heaven.  O  beggarly  men  !  my  soul 
revolts  at  such  meanness  as  this. 

Lord,  thee  and  thee  only,  I  choose.  Now  thy  enemies  are  my 
enemies.  If  they  be  in  my  heart,  they  are  my  enemies  still.  Though 
they  be  in  my  household,  if  they  hate  thee,  I  will  hate  them  !  Do 
not  I  hate  them  that  hate  thee  ?  O  Lord  !  search  me,  try  me,  and  see 
if  there  be  any  evil  way  in  me.  Thus  I  have  covenanted  that  I  will 
be  thine  in  time,  and  thine  in  eternity. 

I  bless  God  that  he  will  take  no  less.  He  would  not  be  the  glori- 
ous God  that  he  is,  if  he  would  barter  the  sublime  treasure  oi  his 
heart's  love  for  a  miserable  divided  love  of  such  hearts  as  ours, 

I  leave  my  message  with  you  to-night.  It  is  a  word  in  time  for 
some  of  you.  It  ought  to  be  a  word  in  time  to  many  more.  Called 
ever  since  you  have  been  old  enough  to  know  the  sound  of  the  mo- 
ther's voice}  called  often  by  the  uprising  of  a  stimulated  conscience 


TEE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  417 

in  your  own  bosom  ;  called  by  many  marked  providences ;  called  by 
sickness  and  by  fear;  called  by  disaster  and  bereavement ;  called  by 
examples  which  you  have  seen  round  about  you  ;  called  by  sympa- 
thies ;  called  by  your  own  reason  ;  called  by  many  solemn  hours  of  re- 
flection ;  called  by  that  slow-swinging  bell  that  has  announced  to  you 
the  departure  of  a  soul ;  called  by  the  remembrances  of  your  child- 
hood ;  called  by  the  heavens  above  you,  and  by  tlie  earth  beneath 
you  ;  called  in  a  thousand  ways,  and  again  and  again  called,  is  it  not 
time,  at  last,  to  listen?  Is  it  not  time,  at  last,  to  say,  "Lord,  I  am 
thine"  ? 

May  God  bring  you  heartily  and  joyfully  to  this  submission  of 
your  soul  to  Christ ;  and  may  the  light  of  heaven  not  cease  to  shine 
upon  that  path  in  which  thereafter  you  shall  walk,  until  you  stand  in 
Zion  and  before  God. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  rejoice  that  thou  art  God  over  all,  eternal,  supreme,  and  all-powerful.  In 
thy  wide  realm,  thou  art  ruling  by  law,  and  governinfr  all  thinjrs.  And  though, 
in.  the  confusion  and  rush,  it  seems  at  times  as  if  all  were  lost,  there  is  to  thee 
neither  confusion  nor  disorder.  All  things  are  firmly  held.  All  things  move  as 
they  are  ordered.  And  thou  dost  behold  the  sequences  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end,  and  dost  ordain  them.  We  rejoice,  O  Lord  our  God  !  in  thy  power,  though 
sometimes  we  stand  trembling,  and  in  awe  of  its  manifestation.  How  can  we  fear 
when  thou  art  father-hearted  ?  How  can  we  fear  when  we  know  that  supreme  over 
every  thing  else  in  the  universe  is  thy  love  ?  How  can  we  fear  when  we  are  in  the 
midst  of  trouble,  when  we  are  in  the  darkness  of  the  thickest  night  that  ever  befalls  us, 
when  pains  take  hold  upon  us,  and  sorrows  and  disappointments  are  round  about  us, 
if  we  hear  thee  saying,  "  All  things  work  together  for  good  '"?  We  can  not  behold 
how  ;  but  who  sees  thy  hand  laying  the  path  out  of  to-day  into  to-morrow  ?  Who 
can  behold  the  bridge  by  which  thou  dost  plant  the  mighty  gulfs  over  which  we 
come  safely  ?  Thou  hast  commanded  thine  angels,  and  they  minister.  Airy  servitors 
they  are,  fulfilling  thy  behest,  and  procuring  our  good.  "  The  angels  of  the  Lord 
encamp  round  about  them  that  fear  him  ;"  and  if  our  eyes  were  open  to  discern, 
as  did  the  prophet's  servant,  how  many  more  would  there  be  for  us  than  against 
us  !  For,  "  if  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?"  And  in  that  joy  and  faith 
may  we  take  up  our  song.  May  we  not  be  afraid,  nor  turn  back  from  duty. 
Though  we  seem  brought  to  the  very  perilous  edge  of  the  gulf,  and  hear  voices 
of  thunder  therein,  at  thy  command  may  we  go  forward  still.  For  thou  canst  lift 
us  up  so  that  we  shall  not  dash  our  foot  against  a  stone.  We  rejoice,  OCiord  !  in 
this  supreme  trust  which  thou  dost  both  permit  and  command.  For,  how  are  we 
lifted  up  and  delivered  from  the  thrall  of  our  senses  !  How  are  we  pursued  from 
day  to  day  by  cares  that  we  need  not  have  !  How  many  burdens  oppress  us  that 
are  unnecessary  burdens!  How  unwilling  are  Ave  to  take  the  only  burden  which 
is  light,  and  the  only  yoke  which  is  easy — thy  burden  and  thy  yoke  !  Our  own 
burdens — oh  !  how  heavy  they  are.  And  though  thou  hast  commanded  us.  "  Cast 
thy  cares  upon  him,  for  he  careth  for  you,"  how  unwilling  are  we  !  How  often 
we  have  carried  trouble  in  our  closet  to  thee,  and  carried  it  back  again  !    How 


418  THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE. 

often  we  have  carried  our  burdens  to  lay  tliem  at  thy  feet,  and  Leliold,  again  they 
were  upon  us  !  How  often  we  have  sought  deliverance  that  was  open  to  us  had 
we  faith  to  enter  in  and  take  our  release  ;  but  behold,  again  we  are  in  prison !  Oh ! 
grant  that  we  may  have  that  faith  of  thine  ancient  servants,  who  stood  within  at 
midniglit,  while  their  keepers  and  others  slept,  and  sung  praises  and  prayed  unto 
God  ;  and  for  us  let  there  be  deliverance  as  there  was  for  them.  May  we  be  able 
to  go  forth  out  of  the  stocks,  and  out  of  the  darkness  of  the  prison-house,  and  out 
of  the  thrall  of  the  enemies  of  our  souls,  and  find  that  liberty  which  becomes  the 
sons  of  God.  Why  are  we  sodden  with  care,  whom  all  God's  love  doth  tend  ? 
Why  are  we  fearful  of  to-morrow,  sajing.  What  shall  we  eat,  and  what  shall  we 
drink  ?  when  we  are  heirs  with  Jesus  Christ — heirs  of  God  to  an  eternal  inheri- 
tance ■?  What  matters  it  if  we  live,  or  if  we  die  ;  or,  dying,  whether  it  be  to-day 
or  to-morrow,  if  living  or  dying  we  are  the  Lord's  ? 

Oh !  that  thou  wouldst  give  us  some  conception  worthy  of  our  character  and 
our  destiny !  Awake  in  us  the  faith  that  we  are  the  sons  of  God  ;  that  we  have  a 
right  to  thy  throne  ;  that  thou  art  ours  ;  that  thou  dost  abide  with  us,  and  in  us, 
and  call  us  to  abide  in  thee.  And  may  we  walk  worthy  of  this  vocation.  May 
we  not  cast  ourselves  down  before  the  lesser  powers,  and  vail  the  glory  that  thou 
dost  shed  upon  us.  May  all  the  light  of  Christ's  love,  and  all  the  peace  which  he 
gives  to  his  disciples,  shine  forth  from  our  faces  from  day  to  day,  so  that  men 
shall  know  that  we  have  a  refuge  ;  that  we  have  a  companion,  secret  and  invisi- 
ble, with  whom  we  hold  sweet  communion  ;  that  there  is  a  way  for  our  souls, 
hidden  from  care,  hidden  from  assault — a  secret  way  of  faith,  whereby  we  are  able 
to  ascend,  and  leave  all  our  mortal  foes  beneath  vis. 

Oh !  grant  that  our  true  experience  might  be  deepened,  and  that  there  might 
be  given  to  us  a  power  of  faith,  such  that  others  might  be  influenced  by  our  testi- 
mony. Thou  hast  forgiven  our  sins.  Lord  Jesus,  how  many  need  forgiveness  of 
sins,  and  are  burdened,  to-night !  Oh  !  that  there  was  some  testimony  from  us  of 
the  power  of  Christ  to  forgive  sins.  Many  there  are  in  thy  presence  that  rejoice 
in  the  fullness  of  thy  salvation.  How  many  there  are  that  are  in  twilight,  and  are 
stumbling  upon  the  rude  path  of  duty,  who  need  this  testimony !  Grant  that  they 
may  not  vail  their  experience  or  their  testimony,  but  breathe  forth,  or  proclaim, 
every  hour,  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  them,  that  men  may  believe  that  there 
is  power  with  God  on  earth,  that  it  is  in  thine  hand  to  forgive  sin,  or  to  heal  the 
body,  as  thou  wilt. 

Grant  that  we  may  feel  that  thou  art  walking  amidst  us,  more  divine  even  than 
when  clothed  in  flesh  ;  more  powerful ;  gentler  ;  more  full  of  sympathy.  Thou 
hast  taken  back  to  thyself  all  the  infinite  attributes  of  divinity  ;  and  that  which 
was  vailed,  and  showed  itself  but  a  little  on  earth,  now  flames  abroad  with  eternal 
light  in  heaven  ;  and  all  thy  power  is  ours.  Thou  art  bringing  thy  sons  back  to 
'  glory.  Grant  that  the  power  of  Christ  may  be  manifested  in  us,  and  that  our 
faith  in  his  presence  and  power  may  be  manifest  to  all  round  about  us. 

Grant  that  the  word  to-night  may  be  preached  with  simplicity  and  directness  ; 
with  gc^ly  fear  and  sincerity  ;  and  may  it  be  a  word  of  power  to  many  souls, 
comforting,  strengthening,  dissuading  from  evil,  and  persuading  toward  good.  And 
grant  that  the  seed  sown  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath,  in  this  house,  may  be  seed  in 
good  ground,  and  bring  forth  abundantly.  We  thank  thee  that  there  is  so  much 
life  and  power  in  thy  truth.  We  thank  thee  that  we  see  its  life  and  power,  as 
well  as  feel  it.  We  thank  thee  that  there  are  so  many  who  have  joyful  faces  from 
week  to  week,  that  are  testifying  to  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  them.  We 
thank  thee  that  there  are  those  who,  though  they  give  no  outward  testimony,  yet 
mve  inward  testimony  in  the  household.     How  many  there  are  that  have  been 


THE  SUPREME  ALLEGIANCE.  419 

long  unhealed,  but  that,  having  touched  the  hem  of  Ctirist's  garment,  behold 
they  are  well !  Grant  that  more  and  more  may  be  healed,  and  that  this  place  may 
be  filled  with  those  that  have  occasion  to  bless  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Keep  us  while  we  live.  Make  us  useful.  Bring  us  at  last  to  death,  not  afraid 
to  die — longing  to  go  forth  and  be  with  Christ,  which  is  better  than  life. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  evermore. 
Amen. 


PKAYER    AFTER   THE    SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  set  the  truth  home  to  every 
heart.  We  thank  thee  that  so  many  have  ceased  to  be  reluctant,  and  have  closed 
with  the  offers  of  salvation,  and  are  blessed.  We  thank  thee  that  so  many  are 
scattered  along  the  path  at  various  stages,  all  tending  upward,  working  out  their 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  those  who  stand 
looking  wistfully  forward  may  be  persuaded.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those 
who  hear  the  call  of  God  afar  off  may  listen  until  its  articulations  become  dis- 
tinct, and  they  hear  the  Saviour  saying,  "  Give  me  thine  heart.  Love  me  more 
than  all  others."  Oh !  grant  that  this  love,  beginning,  may  purge  away  all  im- 
pure affections  ;  all  gross  pleasures  ;  all  habits  of  selfishness  and  self-indulgence. 
Oh !  that  thou  wouldst  lift  us  to  a  higher  plane  of  manhood  ;  to  a  nobler  concep- 
tion of  life  ;  to  a  more  urgent  and  earnest  determination  to  acquit  ourselves  as 
men.  And  when  we  shall  have  passed  through  trial  and  discipline  and  instruc- 
tion and  persuasion  in  this  life,  bring  us  to  thyself,  prepared  to  dwell  with  thee. 
And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  for  evermore.    Amen. 


XXIV. 

A.UTHORITY  OF  ElGHT  OVER  WkONG. 


AUTHOEITY  OF  EIGHT  OVER  WRONG 


SUNDAY  EVENING,  MAY   23,  1869. 


"  And  beliold,  fhey  cried  out,  saying,  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  Jesus, 
thou  Son  of  God  ?  art  thou  come  hither  to  torment  us  before  the  time  ?" — Matt. 
viii.  29. 


This  scene  is  more  dramatically  drawn  out  in  the  corresponding 
passage  in  the  5th  chapter  of  Mark's  gospel,  which  I  will  read,  in 
order  that  you  may  have  the  full  context : 

"  And  they  came  over  unto  the  other  side  of  the  sea  " — ^the  sea 
of  Galilee — "  into  the  country  of  the  Gadarenes  " — over  against  the 
south-east  part  of  the  sea.  "  And  when  he  was  come  out  of  the 
ship,  immediately  there  met  him  out  of  the  tombs  a  man  with  an 
unclean  spirit,  who  had  his  dwelling  among  the  tombs  ;  and  no  man 
could  bind  him,  no,  not  with  chains  :  because  that  he  had  been  often 
bound  with  fetters  and  chains,  and  the  chain's  had  been  plucked 
asunder  by  him,  and  the  fetters  broken  in  pieces  :  neither  could  any 
man  tame  him.  And  always,  night  and  day,  he  Avas  in  the  moun- 
tains, and  in  the  tombs,  crying,  and  cutting  himself  with  stones. 
But  when  he  saw  Jesus  afar  off,  he  ran  and  worshiped  him" — not 
in  our  sense  of  the  term  loorship,  but  in  the  oriental  sense — that  of 
prostration — "  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  and  said.  What  have  I 
to  do  with  thee,  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  the  most  high  God  ?  I  adjure 
thee  by  God,  that  thou  torment  me  not.  (For  he  said  unto  him, 
Come  out  of  the  man,  thou  unclean  spirit.)  And  he  asked  him. 
What  is  thy  name?  And  he  answered,  saying.  My  name  is  Legion : 
for  we  are  many.  And  he  besought  him  much  that  he  would  not 
send  them  away  out  of  the  country.  Now  there  was  there  nigh  unto 
the  mountains  a  great  herd  of  swine  feeding.  And  all  the  devils 
besought  him,  saying,  Send  us  into  the  swine,  that  we  may  enter 
into  them.  And  forthwith  Jesus  gave  them  leave.  And  the  unclean 
spirits  went  out,  and  entered  into  the  swine :  and  the  herd  ran  vio- 
lently down  a  steep  place  into  the  sea,  (they  were  about  two  thou- 
sand ;)  and  were  choked  in  the  sea.     And  they  that  fed  the  swine 


422  AUTEOBITT  OF  RIGHT  OVER   WRONG. 

fled,  and  told  it  in  the  city,  and  in  the  country.  And  they  went  out 
to  see  what  it  was  that  was  done.  And  they  come  to  Jesus,  and  see 
him  that  was  possessed  with  the  devil,  and  had  the  legion,  sitting, 
and  clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind  :  and  they  were  afraid.  And 
they  that  saw  it  told  them  how  it  befell  to  him  that  was  jDossessed 
with  the  devil,  and  also  concerning  the  swine.  And  they  began  to 
pray  him  to  depart  out  of  their  .coasts." 

You  will  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  this  M-as  not  a  work  of 
authority  done  by  our  Master  in  his  own  country.  He  had  gone  out 
of  the  nation  and  its  territory.  He  had,  tlierefore,  no  right,  as  men 
regarded  rights,  to  meddle  witli  affiiirs  on  the  other  side.  For  men 
undertook  to  parcel  ovit  rights.  They  belonged,  according  to  human 
construction,  within  certain  metes  and  bounds — certain  lines  and 
limitations  ;  and  our  Master,  both  there  and  at  home,  forbore  med- 
dling with  political  institutions  and  regulations.  But  he  held,  both 
in  his  own  country  and  among  the  Gadarenes,  that  truth  knew  no 
bounds  and  no  limitations  ;  nnd  that  moral  purity  had  universal 
authority ;  and  that  wherever  he  went  he  was  sovereign  over  minds, 
over  evil  spirits,  over  corrupt  habits  ;  and  tliat  he  had  a  right  to 
rebuke,  and  cleanse,  and  reform. 

That  which  was  true  of  the  Master  is  true  still  of  the  disciple. 
Every  man  that  has  the  truth  owes  it  to  all  mankind ;  and  the  debt 
must  be  paid  as  fast  and  as  far  as  the  providence  of  God  opens  the 
way,  and  makes  it  possible.  Every  man  that  is  superior  to  another 
man  in  his  moral  instincts  has  natural  authority  over  that  mail  to 
the  extent  to  which  he  is  superior.  Every  man  that  is  more  indus- 
trious and  better  ordered  in  his  life,  and  has  a  higher  tone  of  senti- 
ment in  matters  of  public  weal ;  every  man  that  is  better  in  any  and 
all  respects,  has  no  right  of  domination  ;  but  he  has  rights  that 
belong  to  superiorities  ;  and  among  these  is  the  right  of  letting  his 
light  shine  ;  the  right  of  rebuke  ;  the  right  of  cleansing ;  the  right 
of  propagating  moral  power  wherever  he  goes. 

This  is  not  a  right  that  can  be  given  to  a  man  by  men.  For  con- 
venience, it  maybe  best  that  there  should  be  some  order  for  doing  it; 
it  may  be  well  that  men  should  be  licensed  to  speak,  and  make 
known  the  truth ;  but  the  right  of  the  matter  lies  in  the  intrinsic 
prerogatives  and  authorities  of  moral  states.  And  whoever  has 
given  him  of  God  intelligence,  and  moral  truth,  and  moral  power,  is 
ordained  and  permitted  of  God  to  make  them  known.  The  right  is 
not  imparted  by  man  ;  it  is  not  committed  in  trust  to  any  body;  it 
inheres  in  the  moral  constitution  of  things;  it  is  latent  in  every 
man  -that  has  these  things.  And  he  has  not  only  a  right  to  make 
them  known,  but  it  is  his  duty  to  do  it. 

The  spectacle  which  our  Master  beheld  when  he  first  pressed  his 


ATJTEOBITY   OF  BIGET   OYER   WRONG.  423 

foot  upon  this  foreign  territoi'y,  was  the  most  piteous  that  can  be 
looked  upon — a  man  in  ruins.  Tliere  is  nothing  sadder ;  and,  sad  to 
say,  nothing  more  common.  No  one  can  see  great  desolation  by 
conflagration  without  having  a  kind  of  commercial  sympathy.  The 
consumption  of  so  much  property,  the  waste  and  ruin  of  so  many 
costly  structures,  is  painful  to  behold.  No'  man  can  learn  that  a 
storm  has  swept  the  sea,  and  that  fleets  and  merchantmen  have  been 
wrecked  or  foundered,  without  a  certain  sadness.  And  yet  all  the 
ships  on  the  sea  might  sink,  and  all  the  buildings  on  the  globe  might 
be  burned,  and  the  united  whole  would  not  be  as  much  as  to 
shatter  one  immortal  soul.  There  is  nothing  in  old  dilapidated 
cities,  thei-e  is  nothing  in  temples  filled  with  memorials  of  former 
glory,  that  tends  to  inspire  such  sadness  and  melancholy  as  to  look 
ujDon  a  dilapidated  soul,  whose  powers  and  faculties  are  shattered 
and  cast  down.  Kothing  is  more  calculated  to  stir  up  whatever  is 
noble  and  whatever  is  sanitary  in  the  moral  part  of  one's  nature. 
And  when  our  Master  beheld  such  scenes  as  these,  they  seemed  to 
clothe  him — if  such  a  thing  were  possible — with  more  than  usual 
power  and  more  than  usual  zeal. 

In  this  case  there  were  other  elements  added  to  the  trouble.  Not 
alone  were  the  man's  faculties  darkened  ;  he  was  not  merely  pos- 
sessed by  demoniac  influences,  and  despotized  by  them;  but  it  seems 
that  he  was  perjbetually  turned  against, himself  These  demoniac  in- 
fluences employee!  their  power  to  set  the  man's  nature  against  his 
own  flesh,  and  to  drive  him  hither  and  thither.  They  not  only  re- 
strained his  intellectual  and  spiritual  freedom,  but  they  turned  all  the 
forces  of  his  being  to  torment.  "  Night  and  day" — and  surely,  there 
never  was  a  description  so  dramatic — "  he  was  in  the  mountains  and 
in  the  tombs,  crying,  and  cutting  himself  with  stones."  He  wandered 
about  in  desolate  places,  and  among  the  rocks,  filling  the  air  with  his 
cries,  and  gashing  himself — a  most  wretched  creature.  If  ever  there 
was  a  sight  that  should  have  drawn  out  sympathy,  this  was  it — and 
it  did. 

But  the  moment  our  Saviour  came  into  the  presence  of  this  man, 
he  brought  a  disturbing  force.  Two  spheres  came  together  that  were, 
and  ever  must  be,  antagonistic — the  infernal  and  the  supernal;  the  di- 
vine and  the  demoniac.  Afar  off  these  possessing  spirits  discerned  the 
coming  of  their  master.  Afar  ofi"  their  fears  prophesied  their  fate. 
And  they  set  up  a  howling  resistance  at  his  very  first  appearance. 
"  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee  ?"  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  us  ? 
is  the  equivalent  and  the  meaning  of  it.  "  Art  thou  come  hither  to 
torment  us  before  our  time  ?" 

In  the  light  of  facts  which  I  shall  allude  to,  this  latent  claim  is 
remarkable.     It  is  as  if  the  spirits  had  said  to  Christ,  "  We  admit 


424  AUTHORITY   OF  RIGHT   OYER   WRONG. 

that  thou  art  Loi-d  of  the  realm;  but  the  other  life  is  aj^pointed  for 
punishment.  Here  we  have  rights.  This  is  our  time.  Freedom  be- 
longs to  us  hei*e,  and  we  are  to  be  permitted  to  follow  our  bent,  and 
are  not  to  be  meddled  with.  If  it  were  the  other  life,  and  the  other 
punitive  world,  we  should  recognize  the  justice  and  the  rectitude  of 
it ;  but  why  meddle  wnth  us  now  and  here  ?  Let  us  alone.  This  is 
our  brief  period.  Why  intrude  upon  it  ?  These  are  our  rights.  Why 
meddle  with  them  ?"  The  very  worst,  the  most  Satanic  influence,  that 
was  employing  itself  to  degrade  and  destroy  human  life,  claimed  not 
only  the  right  to  do  it,  but  that  it  was  divine  impertinence  in  Christ 
to  intrude  and  meddle. 

You  here  find  the  key-note  of  the  opposition  in  modern  society  to 
every  attempt  to  make  men  better.  Here  is  the  text  that  evil-doers 
preach  incessantly  to  reformers.  All  truth  that  is  striving  against 
lies  is  met  by  the  question,  "  Art  thou  come  to  torment  us  before  our 
time  ?"  All  efibrts  to  cleanse  impurity  by  purity  are  met  by  the  same 
plea.  All  endeavors  to  make  straight  the  crooked  and  warped  and 
rheumatic  joints  of  society  are  met  with  the  declaration,  "We  have 
rights  that  must  not  be  meddled  with.  This  is  our  period  and  our 
sphere.  Art  thou  come  to  torment  us  before  our  time  ?  Get  away. 
Do  not  meddle  with  us.  Mind  your  business.  Let  us  have  our  own 
rights.  And  as  to  the  future,  we  will  take  care  of  that  when  it 
comes." 

Here  is  where  that  began.  It  is  from  the  devil's  inspiration  that 
men  derive  these  notions  with  which  they  resist  every  attempt  at  re- 
formation and  at  the  elevation  of  human  affiiirs.  The  appetites  and 
the  malign  passions  dominate  and  demonize  the  soiil.  They  rule 
not  only  men  but  societies.  We  look  at  this  single  instance,  and, 
because  demoniac  influence  resulted  in  disease,  and  disease  perverted 
the  natural  faculty,  and  interfered  with  all  right  and  proper  use  of 
the  individual,  we  are  affected ;  but  we  perceive  precisely  the  same 
things  and  things  that  if  possible  are  more  mournful,  going  on  around 
us;  and  because  they  do  not  address  themselves  to  our  senses,  we 
scarcely  notice  them. 

Ah  !  how  sensuous  men  are  yet !  How  little  men  live  in  the  spirit, 
and  how  much  by  their  bodily  life,  is  proved  by  this,  that  if  you  show 
them  a  mangled  body,  that  is  suffering,  and  gives  signs  of  it  by  distor- 
tions and  groans,  they  are  vehemently  excited  with  pity,and  are  helpful ; 
but  that  if  you  show  them  a  man  that  is  suffering  a  thousand  times 
more  in  nature  and  soul,  because  these  things  are  invisible,  and  only 
to  be  discerned  by  the  moral  sense,  they  are  but  very  little  affected. 
If  one  single  man  were  to  be  manifest  to  us  as  this  demonized  man  was 
to  Christ,  whole  communities  would  feel  profoundly  affected  ;  but 
when  there  are  entire  classes,  when  there  is  a  vast  uuder-stratum  in 


AJITEORITT  OF  BIGHT  OYER   WRO^fG.  425 

human  society,  when  not  single  individuals,  but  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  men,  are  supremely  possessed  of  the  demon  of  intemperance, 
of  avarice,  of  lust,  or  of  brutal  cruelties,  men  see  it,  and  are  scarcely 
moved.  They  are  used  to  it.  It  always  has  been  so.  It  was  so 
when  they  were  born.  It  was  so  in  their  fathers'  day.  It  has  been 
BO  during  all  their  days.  Therefore,  when  they  behold  it,  they  are  not 
affected  any  more  than  the  Gadarenes  Avere  when  they  saw  the 
wretched  state  of  this  poor  fellow  in  the  mountains.  They  had  got 
used  to  it,  and  it  no  longer  excited  their  pity  or  compassion. 

There  are  those  in  this  community  who  represent  intemperance, 
and  gluttony,  and  lust,  and  vagrancy.      The  number  is  very  great ; 
and  they  have  by  these  veiy  elements  come  to  great  influence.     In-       ! 
deed,  the  vital  struggle  of  these  cities  to-day  is  to  decide  which  class 
shall  possess  the  power  of  organized  society — the  men  who  are  basilar, 
or  the  men  who  are  coronal ;  the  men  whose  instincts  are  brutal,  or      ! 
the  men  who  represent  moral  and  spiritual  truths.      The  question  is,      \ 
"Who  shall  own  the  Legislature  ?      Who  shall  control  the  municijial  y""^ 
government?     Who  shall  make  the  laws  ?    Who  shall  be  the  magis- 
trate, and  execute  the  laws  ?  Which  way  shall  society  exert  its  force  ? 
Shall  it  give  itself  and  its  influence  for  the  augmentation  and  protec- 
tion of  the  lowest  elements  in  society,  or  for  the  development  and 
stimulation  of  the  moral  and  spiritual  qualities  ?     Thei'.e  is  a  large 
number  of  men  that  represent  brutal  sports,  criminal  excitements. 
There  are  miiltitudes  who  represent  lawless  and  frivolous  pleasures, 
wasting  and  demoralizing.     There  are  those  who  represent  avarice 
and  selfishness.     There  are  many  who  live  below  moral  influences, 
and  the  nature  of  whose  life  is  such  that  it,  as  it  were,  cuts  them,  and 
drives  them  out  from  the  temple,  and  the  mansion,  into  the  mountain, 
and  the  cave,  and  the  sepulchre. 

These  men  huddle  together  in  classes ;  and,  as  in  the  instance  of 
the  history  which  we  have  selected,  they  assume  that,  for  the  time  be- 
ing, at  any  rate,  they  have  rights  which  men  have  no  call  to  meddle 
with.  They  assume  that,  whatever  there  may  be  by  and  by,  after 
the  judgment-day,  and  whatever  may  be  their  relations  to  God's  law, 
they  have  rights  as  creatures  of  human  society  which  their  neighbors 
are  bound  to  respect,  and  which  they  are  not  to  meddle  with  nor  dis- 
turb. They  admit  that  virtue  and  piety  perhaps  have  their  territory  ; 
but  then,  they  think,  "  So  has  vice,  and  so  has  license."  And  they 
say,  substantially,  "  Let  us  respect  each  other's  rights.  We  do  not 
take  away  your  Sunday  from  you ;  do  not  you  take  our  Sunday  from 
us.  We  do  not  tell  you  what  you  shall  do  witli  your  Sundays  ;  nor 
shall  you  toll  us  what  we  shall  do  with  our  Sundays.  We  do  not  med- 
dle with  your  churches ;  what  business  have  you  to  meddle  with  our 
grog-shops  and  our  gardens?     We  do  not  meddle  with  your  tools; 


426  AUTHORITY   OF  RIGHT   OVER   WRONG. 

Avhy  do  you  undertake  to  destroy  the  tools  by  which  we  are  building, 
like  artificers,  the  structure  of  our  wealth  ?  You  follow  your  ideas  of 
what  will  make  you  happiest ;  let  us  follow  our  ideas  of  what  will 
make  us  happiest.  We  do  not  want  your  way,  and  you  do  not  want 
ours.  So  let  us  alone.  Art  thou  come  to  torment  us  before  our  time  ? 
Go  away !" 

That  is  the  attitude  to-day,  of  the  criminal  class.  And  by  the 
criminal  class  I  mean,  not  merely  tliose  that  break  the  laws,  but  the 
whole  of  that  vast  number  of  men  who  cater  to  such  appetites 
as  lead  them  to  make  criminals.  The  makers  of  criminals  are  more 
guilty  than  the  criminals  that  they  make.  They  who  lay  the  foun- 
dations for  the  destruction  of  men  by  inciting  them  to  evil  through 
their  appetites  and  passions,  are  the  architects  of  damnation  in  the 
woi'ld,  and  are  the  wickedest  of  men.  Not  the  man  that  drinks,  but 
the  man  who  puts  the  cup  to  his  neighbor's  lips,  is  the  most  wicked. 
Not  the  man  that  steals,  but  the  man  who  makes  a  haunt  for  the  pro- 
duction of  thieves,  rears  them,  nourishes  them,  and  insures  them,  is 
the  culjDrit — the  arch-demon. 

The  attempt  to  cast  out  these  demoniac  influences  is  met  with 
violent  outcry.  Men  say,  "  It  is  an  invasion  of  our  prescriptive 
rights."  They  charge  us  with  being  busybodies  in  other  men's 
matters.  They  say  that  if  every  man  would  mind  his  own  business, 
society  would  be  a  great  deal  better  oiF.  They  say,  "  This  constant 
spying  into  other  people's  conduct,  this  constant  meddling  Avith  other 
people's  tastes  and  pursuits,  only  stirs  up  ill-will,  and  does  no  good." 
They  say,  "  Let  every  man  mind  his  own  business.  That  is  the  first 
and  supreme  law" — though  they  have  some  higher  counsel  than  this 
in  the  utterances,  "  Look  not  every  man  on  his  own  things,  but  every 
man  also  on  the  things  of  others  ;"  "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world ;" 
"  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  ;"  "  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give." 
In  the  ordination  which  Christ  gave,  the  command  is,  "  Cast  out 
devils,"  as  well  as,  "  Preach  the  Gospel."  All  these  things  would 
seem  to  indicate  a  different  doctrine  ;  but  this  is  the  popular  senti- 
ment, and  the  clamor  of  the  basilar  parts  of  society  to-day,  that  men 
have  a  certain  right  to  follow  their  baser  appetites  and  passions. 
The  claim  is,  that  you  have  no  right  to  invade  their  territory ;  that 
you  have  no  right  to  bring  the  light  to  bear  upon  them  so  as  disturb 
their  consciences  ;  that  you  have  no  right  to  subject  them  to  in- 
fluences which  shall  restrain  or  regulate  their  action. 

Now,  I  claim  the  i-ight  to  meddle  in  such  cases.  More  than  that, 
I  claim  that  I  have  the  authority  to  do  it,  and  that  I  am  under  ob- 
ligation to  do  it.  I  hold  that  every  community  is  bound  to  govern 
by  its  highest  sentiments ;  and  I  claim  sovereignty  for  the  repre- 
sentative ideas  of  the  highest  sentiments  in  the  community.     As  the 


AUTHORITY  OF  BIGHT  OVER    WB02TG.  427 

head  is  the  master  of  the  body,  so  that  part  of  the  mind  which  repre- 
sents intelligence  and  moral  purity  is  the  natural  lord  and  sovereign 
of  that  part  of  the  organism  which  represents  the  animal  appetites 
and  passions. 

And  as  it  is  in  the  individual,  so  it  is  in  human  society.  The  upper 
class  should  govern.  By  the  upper  class,  I  do  not  mean  that  class 
which  is  made  upper  by  the  accident  of  wealth  or  hereditary  position  ; 
I  do  not  mean  those  who  merely  represent  externalities ;  I  mean  those 
who  represent  that  deep,  true  manhood  which  God  designed  for  the 
world — those  who  rejjresent  purity  in  sentiment,  purity  in  love, 
piirity  in  faith,  hope,  zeal,  conscience,  equity,  honor,  and  beneficence. 
Men  in  whom  these  great  elements  predominate,  I  call  the  tipper  class. 
And  I  hold  that,  as  they  are  the  cleansing  elements,  as  they  are  ap- 
pointed to  be  what  "winds  are  to  the  atmosphere,  or  what  running 
water  is  to  the  stagnant  pool,  as  they  are  to  be  the  cleansers  of  the 
world,  they  are  the  natural  lords  of  all  classes  that  are  beneath  them. 
The  earth  belongs  to  the  soul's  highest  faculties. 

"  Blessed  are  the  meek :  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth."  It  is  an 
inheritance  that  they  will  have  to  fight  for ;  but  they  shall  have  it. 
The  time  is  coming  when  men  who  represent  the  highest  moral  qual- 
ities, in  their  sweetest  and  most  attractive  form  ;  the  time  is  coming 
when  men  who  represent  the  mind  in  its  serenest  and  most  luminous, 
nay,  supereminent  power,  shall  inherit  the  earth.  And  they  have  a 
right  to  begin  their  inheritance  just  as  soon  as  they  can.  They  have 
a  right  to  attempt  it  anywhere.  The  earth  belongs,  not  to  animals, 
bixt  to  men.  And  among  men,  the  earth,  every  community,  belongs, 
not  to  the  animal  pai*t,  but  to  the  divine  part. 

I  claim  for  reason  and  moral  sentiment  the  right  to  make  laws ; 
the  right  to  execute  laws ;  the  right  to  create  public  sentiment ;  the 
right  by  public  sentiment  to  coerce  wickedness  ;  the  right  to  cleanse 
communities,  and  to  make  men  who  corrupt  them  feel  the  power 
of  that  which  Christ  used  in  driving  the  money-changers  out  of  the 
temple.  This  natural  sovereignty  I  claim  for  goodness  over  badness  ; 
for  virtue  over  vice ;  for  order  over  disorder ;  for  that  which  elevates 
and  saves  men  over  that  which  corrupts  and  destroys  them. 

The  malign  passions  torment  men  and  torment  society  in  such  a 
way  that  whatever  may  be  the  guises  and  pretenses,  mere  benevo- 
lence deiiiands  that  there  shall  be  a  jjerpetual  warfare  against 
them.  There  is  in  common  humanity  reason  enough  for  interfering 
with  corruption,  either  organized  or  in  individual  instances.  You 
would  never  see  a  man  suffer  bodily  harm,  and  disown  the  obliga- 
tions of  charity.  Every  body  reads,  and  loves  to  read,  the  parable  of 
the  Good  Samaritan.  He  was  on  a  journey',  you  know.  There  had 
been  two  travelers  before  him.     The  first  was  a  priest.     He  saw  the 


428  AUTHORITY  OF  BIGHT  OVER   WRONG. 

man  cast  down ;  but  then  lie  belonged  to  the  higli-clmrcb,  and  this 
man  did  not;  and  it  was  not  his  business  to  meddle  with  him.  The 
Levite  saw  him,  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side,  and  did  not  meddle 
with  him,  because  he  did  not  belong  to  his  order,  or  set,  or  class  in 
society.  But  the  Samaritan,  whom  the  Jews  esteemed  as  about  the 
most  despicable  of  creatures,  proved  a  true  man ;  he  came,  he  went 
where  he  was,  and  relieved  his  troubles.  And  "  Good  Samaritan  " 
has  now  become  a  sign  of  charity  everywhere.  You  shall  see  it  on 
apothecary  shops,  and  even  on  firemen's  banners.  There  are  Good 
Samaritan  Lodges.  There  is  a  Good  Samaritan  this,  a  Good  Sama- 
ritan that,  and  a  Good  Samaritan  the  other.  All  men  believe  in 
this  meddlesomeness  of  the  Good  Samaritan.  A  man  in  trouble 
appeals  to  the  sympathy  of  every  body  in  the  world ;  and  if  it  is 
only  a  bodily  trouble,  men  respond  to  it. 

You  are  living  in  a  community,  not  where  one  man  is  beset  by 
thieves  and  robbers,  but  where  five  thousand,  ten  thousand,  twenty 
thousand  men  are  beset  by  thieves  and  robbers.  Society  is  full  of  men 
who  are  being  destroyed  by  their  jjassions.  "  Ah  !  by  their  pas- 
sions !"  you  say  ;  "  that  is  another  matter."  Yes,  it  is  another  mat- 
ter ;  but  it  is  a  matter  that  is  a  great  deal  worse.  If  a  man  breaks 
into  my  house,  and  steals  what  he  can  get,  my  neighbors  are  full  of 
sympathy  for  me  in  view  of  my  loss  ;  but  if  liquor  breaks  into  my 
house,  and  steals  my  reason  and  conscience,  though  men  go  by  and 
say,  "  Pity  !  pity  !"  they  do  not  feel  half  as  much  sympathy  for  me, 
now,  when  my  loss  is  invisible,  as  they  did  when  it  was  visible. 

The  bondage  into  which  young  men  and  maidens  are  continually 
being  brought  by  coiTuption  in  its  most  attractive  forms  ;  the  con- 
taminating influences,  the  pitfalls,  the  lures  which  prey,  and  live  to 
prey,  on  the  community,  are  literally  wasting  myriads  and  millions  of 
these  our  fellow-beings.  We  read  about  the  old  Minotaur  of  antiquity 
that  required  a  virgin  to  be  sacrificed  every  year,  and  that  was  de- 
stroyed by  Theseus ;  but  we  have  crawling  in  the  slime  at  the  bot- 
tom of  society,  not  one,  but  whole  broods,  of  monsters,  that  live  by 
corrupting  and  devouring  men  'and  women.  The  number  that  are 
sacrificed  is  enormous.  The  process  of  destruction  is  going  on  all 
the  time.  There  is  the  breaking  down  of  habits  of  industry  ;  there 
is  addiction  to  vice  in  its  various  forms  ;  there  is  the  loss  of  wealth 
and  reputation  ;  there  is  the  undermining  of  health  ;  and  at  last 
there  is  death,  and  damnation  after  death.  We  know  these  things, 
and  see  them  all  the  time. 

A  young  man  comes  down  to  the  city,  fresh  and  joyous,  from  his 
coimtry  home,  and  his  eye  is  sparkling,  and  his  countenance  is  clear, 
and  his  heart  is  pure  ;  and  in  one  short  year,  any  one  who  is  prac- 
ticed in  physiognomy  sees  in  him  the  signs  of  corruption.     Tell  me 


AUTHOBITY  OF  RIGHT  OVER    WRONG.  429 

not  that  I  can  not  read  the  mouth.  Tell  me  not  that  I  can  not  read 
the  cheeks.  Tell  me  not  that  I  do  not  know  what  those  marks  on 
the  face  mean.  I  know  what  the  matter  is,  frequently,  before  I  hear 
the  facts  m  the  case.  I  oftentimes  discern  that  a  young  man  is  on 
the  way  to  ruin,  without  being  told.  There  are  whole  classes  that 
live  to  catch  and  destroy  young  men.  And  in  the  case  of  many  a 
one,  before  two  years  have  passed,  his  reputation  is  gone ;  and  be- 
fore three  years  have  passed,  his  prospects  in  life  are  gone  ;  and  be- 
fore five  years  have  passed,  alas  !  he  is  carried  home  to  his  native  vil- 
lage," and  his  broken-hearted  father  and  mother  follow  all  that  there 
is  left  of  him  to  the  grave,  and  heap  the  turf  over  it !  And  woe  to 
the  parents  that  can.  not  speak  the  name  of  a  child  except  by  going 
back  to  his  early  life  !  "Woe  to  the  parents  of  that  child  of  whose 
later  life,  of  whose  blossoming,  there  is  nothing  to  be  said,  so  that 
when  they  talk  of  him  they  can  only  talk  of  what  he  was  when  he 
was  a  boy,  and  what  they  hoped  he  would  become  !  Why,  one  such 
instance  as  that  ought  to  stir  up  a  whole  community  to  indignation. 
And  yet  such  instances  are  as  thick  as  hail  in  a  storm.  Every  vil- 
lage has  them.  And  when  we  go  in  to  cast  out  the  devils  that  are, 
with  their  avaricious  maws,  devouring  men,  and  that  are  never  satis- 
fied, but  are  forever  hungry,  they  say,  "  Art  thou  come  to  torment 
us  before  our  time  ?  Why  do  you  not  attend  to  your  own  business, 
and  not  interfere  with  our  rights  ?"  Over  such  men,  who  claim  the 
right,  and  make  it  their  business,  to  destroy  the  young,  the  inex- 
perienced, and  the  weak,  I  declare  the  authority  of  truly  benevolent 
men  who  seek  to  rescue  and  save  these  victims. 

"We  should  oppose  these  malign  influences  from  self-interest,  and 
in-self-defense.  It  is  not  going  away  from  our  own  affairs  when  we 
attempt  to  break  down  every  thing  that  is  destroying  the  industry, 
and  order,  and  virtue,  and  well-being  of  the  young  in  society,  and 
corrupting  society  itself.  Every  man  is  to  a  very  great  extent  de- 
pendent for  his  own  prosperity  upon  the  average  conditions  of  the 
community  in  which  he  lives.  A  man  is  very  much  like  a  plant. 
If  you  put  a  plant  in  a  pot  of  poor  earth,  there  is  no  inherent  force 
in  the  plant  by  which  it  can  grow.  The  atmosphere,  too,  which 
surrounds  the  leaf,  has  much  to  do  with  the  health  and  growth  of  the 
plant.  But  suppose  a  plant  should  be  endowed  with  momentary  in- 
telligence, and  should  cry  out  and  protest  that  it  was  potted  in  bad 
earth,  and  surrounded  by  poisonous  vapors  ?  and  suppose  the  earth 
should  say,  "  Mind  your  own  business,  and  I  will  mind  mine,"  and  the 
atmosphere  should  say,  "  You  take  care  of  yourself,  and  I  will  take 
care  of  myself"?  It  would  be  very  much  like  these  enemies  to  society 
saying  to  us,  when  we  raise  our  voice  against  them,  "Mind  your  own 
business."   That  is  just  what  we  are  doing.    "We  are  minding  our  own 


*430  AJJTHOBITY  OF  BIGHT  OVER   WRONG. 

business.  Our  business  is  to  breathe  and  to  grow,  and  we  must  have 
pure  air  and  good  soil.  And  if  we  are  living  in  a  community  where 
we  find  our  roots  starved,  and  our  leaves  poisoned,  we  have  a  right 
to  take  care  of  ourselves  and  defend  ourselves.  A  man  depends  for 
his  prosperity  and  happiness  upon  the  average  condition  of  the  com- 
munity in  Avhich  he  lives.  A  man  that  lives  in  a  virtuous  community 
is  like  a  man  that  lives  on  some  mountain  side,  where  the  air  is  pure. 
A  man  that  lives  in  a  corrupt  community  is  like  a  man  that  lives 
where  the  air  is  impui-e.  And  for  the  sake  of  our  own  well-being, 
and  the  well-being  of  our  households,  we  have  a  right  to  resist  these 
men  who  are  destroying  society  by  corrupting  it. 

Moreover,  it  is  the  interest  of  every  man  commercially,  that  the 
community  in  which  he  lives  should  be  a  pure,  thrifty,  God-fearing 
community,  and  that  these  vermin  that  infest  it  should  be  cleansed 
out  of  it.  For  who  imposes  upon  society  its  burdens'?  The  immense 
taxes,  the  millions  and  millions  of  dollars  that  are  levied  every  year, 
and  that  increase  fearfully  from  year  to  year,  for  the  support  of 
courts,  and  jails,  and  prisons,  and  penitentiaries,  and  insane  asylums — 
■who  creates  the  necessity  for  these?  I  hold  that  the  ends  of  society 
could  be  answered  wi£h  one  tenth  part  of  the  taxes  that  are  every 
year  levied  and  paid.  Who  is  responsible  for  the  other  nine  parts? 
Corruption,  vice,  wickedness.  In  the  place  of  every  man  that  will 
not  work,  some  other  man  must  do  double  work.  Every  virtuous 
man  has  to  carry  on  his  back  a  man  that  is  vicious.  It  is  the  prop- 
erty of  the  man  who  is  frugal  and  thrifty  that  society  takes  to  make 
up  the  deficiencies  of  men  that  are  thriftless  and  shiftless.  The  man 
that  will  not  dissipate  has  to  stand  in  the  gap  that  is  made  by  the 
scores  of  men  that  do  dissipate.  Since  the  beginning  of  the  world 
I  the  burdens  of  society  have  been  carried  by  men  that  were  good  and 
V  1  virtuous  ;  and  the  great  majority  of  these  burdens  have  been  im- 
Kj)osed  by  men  that  gave  way  to  their  passions  and  appetites. 

I  go  along  streets  where  I  see  dance-houses,  and  gambling  dens, 
and  drinking  saloons,  some  burnished  and  glittering,  and  some  base 
and  low ;  and  I  say,  "  Here  are  my  tax  assessors.  This  explains 
why  I  have  so  much  to  pay  every  year."  Every  lock  and  every  safe 
in  the  city  of  New- York  is  a  testimony  and  a  witness  against 
knaves  and  villains.  The  excessive  thickness  of  walls  ;  the  number 
of  men  that  are  employed  to  watch  each  other ;  the  various  appa- 
ratus by  which  society  is  controlled — these  are  rendered  necessary  by 
the  corruption  which  springs  from  the  basilar  passions.  And  who 
pays  for  them  ?  Honest  men.  So  these  passions  are  the  thieves,  and 
robbers,  and  despots,  and  demons  who  run  up  the  bills,  and  the  moral 
sentiments  pay  them.     And  I  protest  against  it. 

Suppose  I  were  a  rich  man,  and  I  had  a  cellar  full  of  M'ine — as  I 


AUTEOBITY  OF  BIGHT  OVER   WRONG.  431 

have  not — and  suppose  I  found  that  there  was  a  nest  of  scoundrels 
making  their  home  in  my  larder,  and  cellar,  and  drinking  my  wine, 
and  eating  my  meat,  and  having  a  jolly  time  at  my  expense ;  and 
suppose,  on  my  going  down  and  saying  to  them,  "  Clear  out  from 
here  !"  they  should  say, "  What  do  you  mean,  meddling  with  us  ?  It 
is  an  impertinence.  Why  do  you  not  go  up-stairs  and  mind  your 
own  business?" 

All  these  men  who  are  making  it  necessary  that  tliere  should  be 
laws,  and  magistrates,  and  courts,  and  prisons,  are  scoundrels  in 
honest  men's  cellars.  They  are  drinking  our  wine,  and  eating  our 
meat.  And  when  we  go  down  to  drive  them  out,  and  say,  "  Manhood 
is  to  reign  in  this  community,"  they  say,  "It  is  not;  beasthood  is  to 
reign  here."  But  I  set  manhood  over  against  animalism,  and  declare 
that  every  man  who  has  purity,  and  virtue,  and  j)atriotism,  and  love 
to  God,  and  love  to  man,  has  a  right  to  take  by  the  throat  every  villain 
that  is  corrupting  men.  And  I  do  not  say  it  by  permission.  I  do 
not  get  down  on  ray  knees  and  say,  "Please  let  me  preach  these 
things !"  I  stand  here  and  thunder  them  in  your  faces,  and  say, 
"  Whether  you  take  them  or  not,  I  shall  preach  them !"  It  is  my 
right.  It  is  not  only  my  right,  but  it  is  my  duty.  I  should  be  less 
than  a  man  did  I  not  do  it. 

More  than  that,  we  are  bound  to  meddle  with  the  demonized  part 
of  society.  They  who  are  the  disciples  of  Christ,  the  Christ-men,  the 
Christlike-raen,  are  boimd  to  go  after  the  miserable  creatures  that 
night  and  day  wander  in  the  mountains  and  tombs,  and  howl,  and 
cut  themselves ;  because  in  a  community  like  our  own,  from  them 
proceeds  largely  the  prevailing  public  sentiment. 

If  when  the  wind  comes,  it  comes  from  the  south,  how  mild  and 
balmy  it  is,  and  how  all  things  rejoice  and  grow!  But  if  it  wheels 
and  comes  from  the  north,  how  men  shiver  and  button  up  their  coats  ! 
What  is  the  reason  ?  In  coming  from  the  north  it  comes  over  wide 
wastes  of  snow.  And  suppose  the  snow  should  say,  "  I  do  not  med- 
dle with  you  !"  It  does ;  for,  although  the  snow-banks  and  the  ice- 
bergs do  not  come  down  here,  the  wind  that  comes  from  the  north 
floats  over  them,  and  becomes  surcharged  with  cold,  and  chills  us. 
The  silent  and  unmoving  snow  of  the  north  does  make  the  winds 
different  from  what  they  would  otherwise  be. 

And  the  existence  in  the  community  of  vast  numbers  of  corrupt 
men  takes  out  the  tone  of  public  sentiment.  They  are  so  related  to 
us  by  votes,  by  political  interests,  and  by  business,  tliey  are  con- 
nected with  us  in  so  many  ways,  directly  or  indirectly,  they  so  appeal 
to  the  baser  elements  of  society,  that,  if  they  do  not  corrupt  us,  they 
contaminate  the  atmosphere  which  we  breathe,  so  that  it  is  harder  for 
us  to  live  right.     Our  better  impulses  are  chilled,  and  we  are  less  no- 


432  AUTHORITY  OF  BIGHT  OVER   WRONG. 

ble,  less  magnanimous,  less  heroic,  in  a  community  whose  tempera' 
tare  is  lowered  by  its  basilar  conditions. 

Therefore  I  have  a  right  to  say  to  the  devil  in  a  man,  "  Come  out 
of  him  !"  I  have  a  right  to  say  it  not  only  for  my  own  sake,  but  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  are  dearest  to  me — my  own  household.  I 
have  a  right  to  say  it  for  the  sake  of  my  children,  and  my  friends' 
and  neighbors'  children.  I  have  a  right  to  say  it  for  the  sake  of 
the  young  of  the  whole  community. 

How  we  behold  young  men  carried  down  to  destruction  !  We 
see  them  go  from  the  knees  of  the  father,  and  from,  the  arms  of  the 
mother ;  we  hear  one  wild  laugh  of  giddy  and  ciiminal  folly ;  and  then, 
after  that,  we  hear  only  wails  !  We  are  sorry  ;  we  pity  the  parents  ; 
but  if  God  were  to  come  in  judgment,  and  say  to  you,  "  Are  you  not 
guilty  to  some  extent  in  this  matter  ?  Have  you  thrown  the  weight 
and  power  of  all  that  is  in  you  against  those  things  in  the  community 
which  were  poisoning  and  destroying  this  young  man  ?"  what  could 
you  say  ?  To  be  sure,  you  did  not  give  the  young  man  the  cup ;  but 
that  cup  might  have  been  moved  far  from  him,  if  betimes  you  and 
other  men  had  taken  strong  ground  on  this  subject.  To  be  sure, 
you  did  not  seduce  and  drag  down  to  destruction  that  maiden ;  but 
there  was  in  your  hands  an  unused  power  by  which  you  might  have 
quickened  the  moral  sense  of  the  community,  and  cast  out  the  demo- 
niac and  tempting  influences  that  were  ruining  her.  And  so  the  blood 
of  our  brethren  rests  upon  us,  in  jjart.  When  we  can  lift  up  our  hands 
to  heaven,  and  say,  "  I  have  striven  earnestly  to  banish  out  df  society 
every  thing  that  is  evil,"  then,  and  then  only,  we  can  excuse  ourselves 
before  God. 

I  have  a  good  deal  of  a  certain  sort  of  kind  feeling  for  wicked 
men.  I  am  sorry  for  them.  Looking  at  them  in  one  way,  I  have 
sympathy  with  them.  I  would  serve  them  if  I  could.  I  would  do 
all  in  my  power  to  make  them  better.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
they  assume  superiority  over  me,  and  tell  me  to  hold  my  peace,  I 
have  forty  men's  spirits  of  indignation  roused  up  in  me  !  The  idea 
that  these  very  men  that  I  know  are  exhaling  from  Stygian  morasses 
a  pestilential  miasm  which  is  poisoning  my  children,  and  my  neigh- 
bors' children — the  idea  that  they  should  arrogate  superiority  over 
me,  and  tell  me  to  hold  my  peace,  makes  my  blood  boil !  If  a  man 
should  open  a  sty  under  the  Heights,  the  signatures  of  all  the  men 
in  the  neighborhood  would  be  obtained,  declaring  it  a  nuisance ;  and 
it  would  be  abated  quickly.  When  it  is  something  that  smells  in 
the  nose,  men  understand  rights  and  duties,  and  they  say,  "  No  man 
has  any  business  to  create  a  nuisance  in  our  midst;"  and  they  resort 
to  measures  for  compelling  the  offender  to  remove  that  by  which  he 
offends.     Let  a  man  start  a  mill  for  grinding  arsenic,  and  let  the  air 


AUTHOBITT  OF  BI^ET  OYER   WRONG.  433 

be  filled  with  particles  of  this  deadly  poison,  and  let  it  be  noticed 
that  tlie  people  in  the  neighborhood  are  beginning  to  sneeze  and 
grow  pale,  and  let  it  be  discovered  that  this  mill  is  the  cause,  and 
do  you  suppose  he  would  be  allowed  to  go  on  grinding?  No.  Men 
would  shut  up  his  establishment  at  once.  And  yet,  men  open  those 
more  infernal  mills  of  utter  destruction — dislilleries,  and  wholesale 
and  retail  dens  for  liquor;  and  you  can  mark  the  streams  of  damna- 
tion that  flow  out  from  them  ;  and  yet  nobody  meddles  with  them. 
One  man  is  getting  cai'buncles  ;  another  man  is  becoming  red  in  the 
eyes ;  another  man  is  growing  irritable,  and  losing  his  self-control ; 
another  man  is  being  ruined,  both  in  body  and  mind  ;  multitudes  of 
men  begin  to  exhibit  the  signs  of  approaching  destruction  ;  and  the 
cause  of  all  this  terrible  devastation  may  be  traced  to  these  places 
where  intoxicating  drink%  are  manufactured  and  sold.  You  would 
not  let  a  man  grind  arsenic ;  but  you  will  let  a  man  make  and  sell 
liquor,  though  arsenic  is  a  mercy  compared  with  liquor.  And  I  say 
that  you  have  no  right  to  suffer  to  exist  in  the  community  these' 
great  centres  of  pestilential  influence  that  reek  and  fill  the  moral 
atmosphere  with  their  poison.  In  those  sections  of  the  "West  where 
chill  and  fever  prevails,  counties  combine  and  drain  the  swamps  from 
which  it  comes.  And  in  cities,  and'  thickly-settled  places,  you  have 
a  right  to  suppress  distilleries  and  grog-shops.  You  have  not  only 
a  right  to  do  it ;  but,  as  you  love  your  country,  your  city,  your  fel- 
low-men, your  children,  and  your  own  selves,  it  is  your  duty  to  do  it. 
It  is  your  business  to  set  your  face  against  every  demon  that  pos- 
sesses man,  and  say,  "  By  the  authority  of  Christ  I  command  thee  to 
come  out !" 

The  outcry  that  now  is  raised  everywhere  when  good  men  at- 
tempt to  keep  the  Sabbath  day,  belongs  to  this  general  subject. 
Men  combine  to  keep  order  in  the  city,  and  to  make  simple,  common 
virtues  respectable  and  regnant ;  and  I  will  admit  that  there  is  a  cer- 
tain sort  of  favor  given  by  the  papers  to  such  endeavors ;  and  yet, 
after  all,  they  manifest  a  sneaking  under-sympathy  with  the  other 
side.  They  are  so  afraid  that  good  men  will  not  be  discreet — tliat 
they  will  not  be  moderate  !  They  are  so  afraid  that  things  will  not 
be  done  in  the  best  taste  !  "  There  ought  to  be  good  judgment  in  all 
things,"  they  say.  Hei-e  are  men  that  are  doing  the  devil's  work  in  the 
community ;  here  are  men  that  are  foul  and  filthy,  as  if  they  slept  in 
gutters  ;  here  are  men  that  set  fire  to  the  passions ;  here  are  man  that 
are  murderers  by  the  wholesale  ;  here  are  men  that  are  preparing  fuel 
for  endless  destruction  ;  and  these  men  it  is  thought  should  not  be 
disturbed  !  If  we  attempt  to  check  them  in  their  wicked  course,  we 
are  rebuked  for  impertinence  I  "  "Why  do  you  meddle  with  them  ?" 
it  is  said.    "  It  is  of  no  use.     You  can  not  make  the  world  over 


434       AUTHORITY   OF  RIGHT   OYER   WRONG. 

again.  Men  will  be  wicked.  And  besides,  you  ought  to  be  discreet. 
You  ought  not  to  be  running  your  head  against  a  rock.  Modera- 
tion !  moderation  !  moderation  ! 

I  have  taken  notice  that  this  cry  of  moderation  conies  to  us 
'always  when  we  are  attempting  to  carry  out  the  law  of  the  higher 
faculties,  and  never  when  we  are  acting  under  the  inspiration  of  pas- 
sion, or  avarice,  or  ambition.  Nobody  ever  says,  "  Moderation  ! 
moderation  P^  in  Wall  street.  Nobody  utters  this  cry  in  the  purlieus 
of  vice.  It  is  in  the  doors  of  churches  that  men  stand  and  give  this 
warning.  People  seem  to  think  that  in  works  of  disinterested  bene- 
volence, in  devotion  to  missionary  labor,  men  are  going  to  rush  pell- 
mell,  like  affrighted  buffaloes,  and  that  they  need  to  be  cautioned 
against  going  too  fast  and  too  far ;  but  the  overswollen  and  turbu- 
lent stream  of  passion  is  constantly  sweeping  by,  and  carrying  mul- 
titudes without  number  to  destruction,  and  nobody  lifts  up  his  win- 
dow to  look  out  and  say,  "  Moderation  !"  No  moderation  is  thought 
'necessary  for  the  lower  faculties.  All  the  moderation  men  believe 
in  is  in  the  higher  nature.  As  if  all  our  dangers  came  from  the  top 
of  the  head,  instead  of  the  bottom  ! 

How  disagreeable  it  is  to  see  a  young  man  taking  on  airs  because 
his  father  was  rich  !  He  ha*s  nothing,  or  not  much,  in  his  bead  ;  but 
he  has  a  great  deal  in  his  pocket ;  and  so  he  swaggers,  and  puts  on 
airs.  How  extremely  disagreeable  it  is  !  And  how  disagreeable  it 
is  to  see  the  whittled-down  remnant  of  a  great  man,  who,  because 
his  father  had  a  name,  forever  lies  and  sucks  at  the  breast  of  his 
ancestor's  reputation  !  How  we  despise  an  aristocracy  founded  on 
such  a  pretense  !  Yet  there  is  such  a  thing  as  aristocracy,  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  nobility,  that  a  man  ought  to  feel,  and  feel  keenly, 
to  his  fingers'  ends.  Not,  however,  because  his  father  was  great — 
though  he  may  have  a  domestic  pride  in  that ;  not  because  his  father 
was  rich — though  there  is  a  rational  ground  for  being  glad  on  that 
score.  But  where  a  man  feels,  "  I  am  born  of  the  truth  ;  I  am  a  son 
of  God;  I  belong  to  virtue;  I  love  it;  it  is  mine,  as  is  also  con- 
science, and  faith,  and  rectitude  ;  all  ray  aims  are  toward  God  ;  he 
is  my  witness  ;  and  he  and  I  are  workers  together ;"  where  a  man  has 
given  himself  over  wholly  to  tlie  side  of  God,  and'  humanity,  and 
truth,  and  duty,  I  like  to  see  him  walk  straight.  I  like  to  see  a 
truth-speaking  man  look  down  on  liars.  I  like  to  see  a  man  every 
fibre  0^  whose  life  is  full  of  integrity  and  honor  look  down  on  mis- 
creant dishonesty  with  withering  contempt.  I  like  to  see  the  aris- 
tocracy of  conscience  and  of  goodness.  God's  men  are  better  than 
the  devil's  men,  and  they  ought  to  act  as  though  they  thought  they 
were.  Every  man  that  is  virtuous  and  pure  is  superior  to  all  men 
who  are  vicious  and  impure,  and  ought  to  act  as  though  he  felt  so. 


Hi' 


AUTEOBITT   OF  BIGHT  OVER   WRONG.  435 

Men  ought  to  stand  on  the  side  of  duty,  and  on  the  ground  of  good- 
ness, and  assert  the  grandeur  and  dignity  of  rectitude  over  immoral- 
ity, and  every  thing  that  is  allied  to  it.  It  is  time  that  we  undei'- 
stood  these  things,  and  acted  according  to  our  real  character  and 
prerogatives. 

You  may  ask,  "  What  shall  we  do  ?"  The  first  step  that  every 
man  should  take  in  this  matter  is  to  ascertain  whether  he  is  willing  '  ^ 
to  do  any  thing.  Are  you  willing  everywhere  to  be  a  witness  for  j 
the  truth  ?  Ai'e  you  willing  to  unite  with  others  in  bearing  testimony 
to  it  ?  Are  you  willing  to  seek  the  light,  and  to  speak  out  your  sen- 
timents ?  Are  you  willing  to  make  known  what  you  are,  and  what 
the  truth  is,  and  what  your  duty  is,  and  what  men's  obligations  are  ? 


Are  you  willing  to  rebuke  wickedness  by  your  ^yords  and  by  your 
example  ?  Are  you  willing  to  be  a  worker  ?  Are  you  willing  to  be 
a  soldier 'in  the  army  of  the  Lord?  If  you  are,  God  will  reveal  to.---f 
you  what  you  can  do.  First  see  to  it  that  you  have  a  williug  heart,  /|f 
and  then  your  duty  shall  be  interpreted  to  you  step  by  step.  Wher-  "v 
ever  you  go,  do  not  be  afraid  of  those  that  are  wicked.  Count 
yourself  their  better.  Count  yourself  higher  than  any  man  who 
violates  conscience,  and  violates  the  plain  laws  of  God.  Refuse  to 
be  patronized,  and  refuse  to  be  flattered,  by  men  that  hold  power  and 
place  and  wealth  only  for  the  sake  of  perverting  them  to  the  ends  of 
selfishness  and  avai'ice  and  lust.  »  ^ 

Remember  that  just  now  all  the  great  agencies  of  society  are 
limping.     Just  now  it  is  the  carnival  of  corruption.     Just  now  we 
are  in  danger  from  money.     The  Red  Sea  that  seemed  divided  to  let 
the  people  go  over,  is  coming  together  again  ;  and  not  Pharaoh 
alone  is  going  to  be  whelmed,  but  many  and  many  Israelites  will  be 
found  lying  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  too.     Just  now  it  would  seem 
as  though  vice  had  wondrous  license.     I  love  my  country,  my  State, 
and  the  city  in  which  I  dwell ;  and  I  am  personally  wronged   and  ^^ 
grieved  when  I  behold  such  corruption  as  exists  in  high  places ;  and      ;' 
I  see  no  remedy  for  it  at  present  except  tlie  creatwnofaj2^jLter_pj^      | 
lie  sentiment.     Out  of  this  shall  come  the  remedial  forms  by  which     i 
society  shall  reorganize  itself,  and  destroy  all  its  enemies.     But  first 
we  want  clear  opinions  founded  on  moral  premises.     Then  we  want 
outspoken  men,  to  take  these  opinions  and  disseminate  them.     If  we  ~7 
can  not  create  a  Christian  public  sentiment  in  our  cities  and  towns     I  ^/ 
and  villages,  if  we  can  not  surround  our  courts  and  legislatures  with    / 
a  rectifying  public  sentiment,  I  do  not  know  what  is  to  become  of  "'''^ 
us.     We  are  getting  far  along  on  the  road  of  destruction. 

M}'-  historical  hope  is  in  the  fact  that  England  has  had  a  career 
of  enormous  corruption,  and  has  overcome  it.  Many  nations  have 
seen  periods  in  which  they  dipped  far  down ;  but  through  simple 


436  AUTEOBITT  OF  BIGHT   OVEB    WBONG. 

jaoral  resiliency,  they  rebounded  and  came  up  again.  And  I  have  a 
general  and  vague  impression  that  we  shall  get  over  the  corruption 
into  which  we  are  falling.  At  present  the  symptoms  are  very  bad. 
The  patient  is  almost  in  a  collapse.  And  it  is  a  time  when  men 
should  feel  that  mere  doctrine  is  not  enough.  Not  that  we  should 
omit  the  preaching  of*doctrine.  We  should  preach  doctrine;  but 
doctrine  is  a  bow,  and  morality  is  an  arrow,  and  we  are  to  draw 
doctrine  to  the  shoulder,  and  take  aim,  and  send  the  twanging  arrow 
to  the  very  heart  of  corruption,  wherever  we  are.  We  are  not  to 
intermit  any  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  life,  but  we  are  to  give  them 
direction  and  application,  and  they  are  to  take  on  a  power.  We 
have  been  saved,  in  the  providence  of  God,  from  one  gigantic  evil ; 
but  we  have  bounded  over  into  the  evils  of  avarice ;  and  never  was 
there  a  time  since  I  was  born  when  such  behemoths  of  iniquity 
stalked  the  streets  as  to-day.-  There  was  never  a  time  when  avarice, 
like  some  vast  monster,  so  browsed  on  society,  as  a  huge  elephant 
with  his  great  trunk  breaks  down  the  branches  of  trees,  crunching 
them  for  his  own  digestion.  These  monsters,  these  ichthyosauri,  are 
known.  Their  names  are  familiar.  And  it  is  time  that  the  churches 
took  the  alarm.  It  is  time  that  Christian  ministers  took  the  alarm. 
It  is  time  that  patriotic  citizens  took  the  alarm.  It  is  time  that  men 
began  to  take  counsel  with  each  other,  and  look  each  other  in  the 
eyi.  And  all  men  that  love  virtue,  and  truth,  and  purity  should 
stand  together,  and,  with  the  Master  before  them,  say  to  the  monstei*, 
as  he  said  to  the  unclean  spirit,  "  I  command  thee  to  come  out." 

May  God  purify  the  state  and  the  city.     May  God  purify  the 
citizens. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  draw  near  to  tliee,  oiir  Heavenly  Father,  with  gratitude  and  with  thanks- 
giving. At  thine  hands  we  have  experienced  bounties  innumerable,  joys  more 
than  we  can  tell,  mercies  inexpressible.  What  tongue  can  speak  of  the  kind- 
nesses which  thou  hast  manifested  toward  us,  by  the  great  realm  of  nature,  which 
thou  hast  ordained  to  serve  us,  and  which  is  the  minister  of  thy  bounty  ;  by  all 
the  blessings  which  thou  hast  sent  into  life  through  society ;  and  by  all  the  over- 
rulings  of  thy  providence  by  which  the  events  of  every  day  have  conspired 
together  for  our  good ;  but,  above  all,  by  thine  own  precious  self,  by  Jesus,  our 
Master  and  companion,  and  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  through  ^hich  we 
commune  with  thee,  and  by  which  our  life  is  lifted  up  above  the  flesh,  and  holds 
sacred  and  blessed  companionship  with  thy  life?  Thus,  we  are  indeed  the  sons 
of  God,  not  alone  by  thine  innumerable  bounties  and  gifts,  but  by  our  daily  habit 
of  life.  By  all  our  thoughts,  by  all  our  affections,  by  every  spiritual  sentiment, 
^Q  are  brought  into  this  companionship,  and  are  the  sons  of  God  in  very  deed. 


AUTEOniTY  OF  MIGET  OVER   WRONG.  437 

Oil!  tliat  there  -v^re  in  us  that  spirit  which  should  make  mauifest  more 
gloriously  the  power  of  God  on  the  human  soul.  Oh !  that,  since  we  are  sons, 
we  might  show  ourselves  princes.  Oh !  that  there  might  be  such  luminousness 
in  every  thought,  in  all  virtues,  in  every  affection,  that  they  should  shine  out, 
and  men  should  behold  them.  We  beseech  of  thee,  0  Lord  our  God !  that  we 
may  come  more  and  more,  every  day,  into  this,  blessed  communion,  and  that, 
going  forth,  our  faces  may  shine,  and  tliat  men  may  know  where  we  get  our 
inspiration  ;  where  our  comfort  comes  from  ;  whence  are  all  the  gifts  by  which 
we  are  made  strong  in  our  combat  with  grief,  with  temptation,  and  with  wicked- 
ness in  high  places. 

We  pray,  O  God !  that  thou  wilt  comfort  any  that  are  beginning  this  life,  and 
that  see  men  as  trees  walking.  Touch  their  eyes  again.  Grant  that  they  may 
see  clearly.  May  all  those  that  are  striving  to  follow  thee,  but  that  see  the  dis- 
crepance between  their  ideal  and  their  real  life,  and  mourn  over  it,  be  comforted 
and  encouraged  to  persevere. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  those  who  are  tempted  and  carried  by  gusts  of  pas- 
sion out  of  the  way,  and  find  themselves  disheveled  and  turned  upside  down,  like 
men  that  are  whirled  in  the  tempest,  may  not  give  up  in  despair,  but  gather 
again  their  energies,  and  attempt  once  more  to  walk  the  royal  way.  Let  none, 
having  once  put  his  hand  to  the  plow,  turn  back.  May  no  one  count  himself 
unworthy  of  eternal  life. 

Oh !  that  every  one  of  us  might  behold  the  coming  glory,  and  be  inspired 
with  the  thought  of  the  joy  and  dignity  to  come.  May  every  one  of  us  take 
hold  of  present  duty.  And  though  we  are  filled  with  weaknesses,  and  are 
conscious  every  day  of  sins ;  though  infirmities  multiply  themselves  without 
number  on  every  side,  and  the  carriage  in  us  of  thought  and  feeling  and  senti- 
ment is  most  imperfect ;  though  our  whole  life  is  illiterate,  untaught,  in  things 
spiritual,  yet  raay  we  look  forward,  and  "press  forward,  .toward  the  mark  for 
the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Blessed  be  that  provision  by  which  thou  dost  accept  and  minister  to  our 
■  weaknesses.  Thou  dost  take  us,  not  because  we  are  good,  but  because  in  thine 
infinite  love  thou  wilt  make  us  good.  Thou  dost  take  us  as  little  orphan  chil- 
dren are  taken,  that  they  may  be  befriended,  and  brought  up  into  strength  of 
virtue.  Thou,  0  blessed  Saviour  !  art  the  Saviour  of  sinners,  and  thou  dost  come 
to  seek  and  to  save  the  most  needy,  and  the  most  wretched  ;  and  there  is  mercy 
to  the  uttermost.  And  therefore  we  are  not  consumed.  Therefore  we  may  hope, 
we  may  have  courage.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  it  may  comfort  us  in  our 
desponding  hours  ;  that  it  may  animate  us  to  preach  the  Gospel,  not  alone  to 
those  that  are  near  at  hand,  but  to  those  that  are  afar  off.  May  all  who  name 
thy  name  have  an  impulse  given  them,  to  make  known  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

We  pray,  O  Lord  our  God !  that  thy  cause  may  thrive  ;  that  truth  may  pre- 
vail ;  that  virtue  may  supplant  vice  ;  that  order  may  take  the  place  of  disorder. 
We  beseech  of  thee  that  the  conscience  of  the  great  public  may  be  educated  of 
God,  and  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  'We  pray  that  there  may  be  nobler 
men,  and  that  our  magistrates  may  rise  above  the  temptations  of  the  magistracy. 
We  beseech  thee  for  the  purification  of  our  courts,  for  the  purification  of  our 
magistrates,  and  for  the  purification  of  the  government.  May  all  those  that  are 
appointed  to  places  of  power  and  trust  be  men  that  fear  God.  and  that  love 
righteousness.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  not  be  whelmed  in  destruc- 
tion by  the  passions.  May  there  be  reformation  throughout  this  great  people. 
Now  that  thou  hast  wrought  for  us  so  wonderfully  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  we 


438  AUTHORITY  OF  BIGET  OVER    WRONG. 

beseech  of  tliee  that  we  may  not  grow  turbulent — that  w%  may  not  be  warlike 
and  quarrelsome.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  use  our  power  for  justice 
and  for  mercy.  May  we  not  despoil  the  weak.  May  we  not  seek  to  draw  down 
those  that  are  less  and  poorer  than  we.  May  it  be  our  mission  to  preach  the 
gospel  of  mercy  and  of  humanity,  of  truth  and  of  liberty,  all  over  the  world. 
May  it  be  our  pride  to  be  at  peace  and  to  gain  victories  by  the  power  of  truth, 
more  than  by  the  power  of  our  hands,  f 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Oh ! 
that  they  might  recognize  the  relationship  which  thou  hast  established  between 
man  and  man.  Oh !  that  the  feeling  of  a  common  Christ,  and  a  common  Saviour, 
and  a  common  God,  as  the  one  Father,  might  unite  the  peoples  of  the  earth,  and 
that  there  might  be  more  of  a  true  Christian  brotherhood  in  a  common  hope,  in  a 
common  sense  of  weakness,  and  in  a  common  aspiration  for  excellence  and  glory 
in  the  life  that  is  to  come.  And  so  may  woes  cease,  and  oppressions  cease,  and 
wrongs  cease,  and  all  purities,  and  all  truths,  and  all  justice,  and  all  piety  be 
established,  in  all  the  earth. 

Hear  us  in  these  our  petitions,  and  answer  us,  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMON. 

OxiR  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee,  as  thou  hast  taught  us  by  thine  example,  in 
thy  blessed  Son,  our  Saviour,  so  enable  us  to  quicken  in  ourselves  that  life  which 
was  in  him.  And  may  we  in  cha,nged  circumstances  know  how  wisely  to  carry 
out  the  sarue  truths  and  the  same  principles  of  life.  Have  compassion  \ipon  those 
who  are  tempted  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear.  Give  a  better  mind  to  those 
wio  are  their  tempters.  May  those  whose  eyes  stand  out  with  fatness,  who  have 
more  than  heart  could  wish,  whom  pride  compasseth  as  a  chain,  who  lift  up  their  ^ 
face  against  God  and  man,  and  defy  all  things,  feel  the  silent  power  of  thin^ 
omnipotence.  Beat  down  these  wicked  oppressors  to  the  ground.  And  we 
beseech  of  thee,  thou  that  hast  destroyed  Satan  and  all  his  works,  destroy  in  our 
midst  Satan  and  all  his  works.  Cleanse  us,  purify  us,  and  make  us  a  God-fearing 
people. 

Hear  us  in  these  our  supplications,  and  answer  us,  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


ft 

XXV. 


The  Powek  of  Love. 


THE    POWER    OF    LOVE. 


SUNDAY  MORNING,  MARCH   7,  1869. 


"  Grace  be  witli  all  them  that  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity 
Eph.  vi.  24. 


This  is  the  climax  of  a  most  noble  epistle ;  and  there  is  no  letter 
of  Paul  that  came  from  the  very  centre  of  divine  love  with  more 
richness,  power,  and  brilliancy,  and  in  which  he  deduces  more  clearly 
and  more  numerously  the  evidences  and  fruits  of  a  truly  Christian 
life,  than  in  this  one  to  the  Ephesians.  The  conception  of  a  Christ- 
like life,  its  duties,  its  fruitions,  its  trials  and  victories,  is  not  more 
grandly  set  forth  anyAvhere.  The  last  note  of  this  symphony  is, 
"  Grace  be  upon  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  " — 
as  if  loving  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  at  once  the  consummation 
toward  which  all  duties  lead,  and  the  source  or  inspiration  from 
Avliich  all  duties  spring,  so  that  it  comprehended  all  the  details  which 
he  had  been  passing  through  ;  and  as  if  it  were  a  resumption  or 
resume  of  the  whole  of  what  he  had  said  before. 

This  is  the  line,  then,  which  describes  the  bounds  of  Christendom. 
Here  is  the  warrant  of  discipleship.  Here  is  the  test  of  a  true  fel- 
lowship. Here  is  the  answer  to  the  question.  Who  is  right  ?  What 
is  right  ?  Who  are  the  followers  of  Christ  ?  Who  are  the  descend- 
ants of  the  apostles  ?  Grace  be  to  all  who  love  y  grace  be  to  all 
who  love  Jesiis  Christ  the  Lord ;  grace  be  to  all  who  love  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  with  undying  love — for  tliis  is  the  meaning  of  "sin- 
cerity," as  it  is  in  our  version.  Who  is  authorized  to  pronounce 
God's  benediction,  if  Paul  was  not  ?  For  this  Grace  he  upon  you 
carries  with  it  approbation,  applause,  gratulation,  and  promise  of 
blessing.  Who  is  authorized  to  limit  or  to  restrict  the  conditions 
of  such  a  blessing  as  Paul  has  here  announced  ? 

Among  all  sects  and  churches  of  Christendom,  under  all  doctrinal 

forms,  and  amidst  various  and  diverse  organizations,  they  are  blessed 

wlio  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Clirist  in  sincerity.     In  our  version  it  is 

"sincerity."    "  Licorruptibility,"  says  the  margin.     Tlie  sense  doubt- 

Lesson  :  Eph.  vi.    Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection  :  3frl,  1835.    • 


440  TEE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

less  is,  They  that  love  with  a  love  that  does  not  die,  that  is  immortal, 
that  can  not  become  corrupt,  nor  change,  nor  pass  away.  Not  a  pnff 
of  enthusiasm,  not  the  zeal  of  sudden  excitement,  not  a  poetic  sym- 
pathy, taking  on  a  religions  mood,  but  a  love  that  holds  the  soul 
steadfastly  to  Christ — that  is  the  incorruptibility  which  the  margin 
speaks  of,  and  which  the  original  means. 

All  religion  that  fails  to  produce  love  is  imperfect,  and  so  far 
false.  Love  to  Christ  is  the  one  indispeus^able  element.  Every  thing 
gained  but  this,  and  religion  is  like  the  gold  setting  from  which  the 
diamond  has  dropped  out.  It  is  not  only  important,  but  precious. 
It  is  so  vital  that  if  it  be  present — this  true  love-^it  carries  with  it 
all  privilege,  all  promise,  and  all  prerogative.  If  it  be  absent,  it  can 
not  be  made  up.  There  is  no  equivalent  nor  substitute  for  it.  All  is 
void  if  there  be  not  love.  Apostolicity  is  nothing,  reverence  is 
nothing,  sincerity  is  nothing,  if  this  element  is  lacking.  This  moral 
law  is  as  absolute  as  any  natural  law.  A  religion  which  results  in 
true  and  abiding  love,  no  matter  how  it  expresses  itself,  no  matter 
how  heretical  it  is,  no  matter  how  it  is  organized,  no  matter  what 
ordinances  are  present  and  what  are  absent — such  a  religion  is 
divine  ;  and  all  that  profess  it,  and  have  it — grace  be  ujDon  them ! 
They  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  incorruptible,  undying  love. 
And  no  matter  how  pomj^ous,  nor  how  long  descended,  nor  how 
much  defended,  nor  how  far  in  every  respect  reverend  and  cath- 
olic, a  church  is,  if  it  fails  in  its  doctrines,  or  its  ordinances,  or 
its  methods,  to  produce  love,  it  is  invalid  ;  it  is  useless.  For  that  is 
the  bright  centre  toward  which  every  thing  must  aim,  and  which 
every  thing  must  reach,  if  it  is  to  be  effectual. 

1.  This  love  to  Christ,  as  a  great  soul-force,  accomplishes  that 
■which  is  indispensable  to  the  whole  rij^ening  of  the  human  soul — 
namely,  whatever  unites  it  in  vital  sympathy  to  God.  The  human 
soul,  without  personal  union  with  God,  is  sunless  and  summeriess, 
and  can  never  blossom  nor  ripen. 

To  bring  this  lower  order  in  creation  up  to  a  divine  union,  so  that 
it  shall  make  the  leap  from  the  animal  to  the  spiritual  sphere,  from 
the  lower  to  the  higher  condition,  is  the  one  problem  of  history.  It 
can  not  be  done  by  reason,  although  reason  is  largely  subordinated, 
and  is  auxiliary.  But  the  reason,  dominant,  can  never  bring  the 
soul  into  vital  union  with  God.  Even  if  by  searching  it  could  find 
him,  it  would  stop  short  in  the  finding.  It  would  make  no  further 
acquaintance  with  him.  So  that  science,  which  is  the  child  of  rea- 
son, will  never  minister  directlj'"  to*  this  consummation,  though  indi- 
rectly it  will,  or  Avill  prepare  the  way  for  it,  and  will  furnish  various 
auxiliaries  to  its  instruments. 

Neithev  can  this  be  done  by  conscience.     Conscience  has  power; 


THE  POWER   OF  LOVE.  441 

but  not  the  power  to  create  sympathy.  No  man  will  be  joined  to 
God  by  conscience  ;  contrariwise,  men  will,  more  likely,  by  mere 
conscience,  which  excites  fear,  be  driven  away  from  God. 

It  can  not,  either,  be  done  by  awe  and  reverence,  which  are  adjuncts, 
but  which,  while  they  give  toning  and  shadow  to  the  higher  feelings, 
give  them  no  solar  heat.  They  tend  to  lower  and  humble  the  soul ; 
not  to  inspire  and  elevate  it.  They  have  their  place  among  other 
feelings.  Neither  have  they  found  God,  nor  have  they  ever  led  a  soul 
to  find  him — still  less  to  join  him.  Love,  as  a  disposition,  as  a  con- 
stant mood,  has  a  welding  power  which  can  bring  the  soiil  to  God, 
and  fix  it  there.  Finding  him,  it  can  bring  the  soul  into  communion 
with  him,  so  that  there  shall  be  a  perso'nal  connection  between  the 
divine  nature  and  the  human  nature.  It  is  a  power  that  belongs  to 
eveiy  single  individual  soul  in  the  race.  There  is  no  one  who  may 
not  rise  up  into  union  with  God  by  the  power  of  love.  That  is  the 
wing  which  will  carry  the  soul  safely  through  the  wide  distance  ;  and 
there  is  no  other  wing  that  can  beat  its  way  there. 

This  is  the  doctrine  which  blazes  throughout  Christ's  teachings. 
It  is  the  intei'pretation  that  he  gave  of  the  whole  law,  that  it  meant 
nothing  but  love — love  to  God'and  love  to  man.  And  that  sublimest 
didactic  psalm  that  was  ever  chanted  through  the  ages — the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  First  Corinthians — is  to  the  same  purport.  Without  love 
every  other  grace  and  every  other  attainment  is  vord.  Love,  then,  is 
the  one  interpreter  between  God  and  man. 

2.  Love,  also,  is  the  one  facile  harmonizer  of  the  internal  discords 
of  the  human  soul.  It  induces  an  atmosphere  in  us  in  which  all  feel- 
ings find  their  summer,  and  so  their  ripeness.  Around  no  other  one 
centre  of  tlie  human  soul  will  all  the  fiiculties  gather  in  submission 
and  in  obedience  ;  but  they  will  around  love.  It  has  power  to  con- 
trol rage  and  anger,  and  subdue  them.  It  breaks  self-will  and  obsti- 
nacy. It  persuades  pride.  It  stimulates  imagination,  and  enriches 
it.  It  gives  energy  to  all  the  moral  sentiments  ;  ennobles  them  ; 
sweetens  them  ;  gives  them  more  power.  While  it  fires  each  indivi- 
dual power  with  intense  fervor,  it  mingles  the  different  manifestations 
of  power,  like  flames,  in  a  harmonious  fellowship. 

Love  it  is — not  conscience — that  is  God'si  regent  in  the  human 
BOul,  because  it  can  govern  the  soul  as  nothing  else  can. 

3.  Love  is  the  only  experience  Avhich  keeps  the  soul  always  in  a 
relation  of  sympathy  and  of  harmony  with  one's  fellows ;  and  so  it  is 
the  truest  principle  of  society.  If  society  ever  rises  out  of  its  lower 
passions  and  entanglements  into  a  pure  and  joyous  condition,  it  will 
be  by  the  inspiration  of  a  divine  love.  This  alone  will  enable  it  to 
convert  knowledge  to  benefit. 

Art,    instructed    by    science,    may  give    us    better   light,    and 


442  THE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

clieajDer ;  it  may  drain  cities  of  dangerous  elements ;  it  may  build 
better  tenements  ;  it  may  find  better  food  ;  it  may  give  better  cloth- 
ing ;  it  may  surround  tlie  bodily  life  with  more  comforts  and  material 
helps :  but  the  soul  lies  further  back  than  the  skin ;  and  society  is 
something  more  than  the  aggregate  of  happy  animals.  Society  is 
tormented  by  the  dispositions  of  men  more  than  by  its  own  ignorance. 
While  science  will  enlighten  men ;  while  art  will  augment  their  phy- 
sical comfort ;  while  these  will  indirectly  smooth  the  way  for  higher 
advancement,  or  prove  auxiliaries  to  it,  they  are  not  the  prime  ele- 
ments of  elevation ;  and  nothing  will  ever  elevate  society  that  does  not 
first  change  the  individual  heart,  and  animate  it  with  the  power  of 
true  love.  But  when  the  individual  heart  is  changed,  and  communi- 
ties begin  to  multiply  and  touch  each  other,  so  that  they  can  create 
a  public  sentiment  in  society,  reformations  will  grow  easy.  Then  we 
shall  have  a  sociology  that  will  have  a  science. 

4.  Love  is  almost  the  only  prophetic  power  of  the  soul.  It  is  the 
chief  principle  that  inspires  hope  of  immortality.  This  world  is  good 
enough  for  every  faculty  but  love,  Tlie  purer  and  stronger  love  is, 
the  more  is  every  one  who  experiences  it  convinced  that  language  and 
customs  were  never  framed  for  love; 'that  of  all  the  feelings  there  is 
the  least  j)rovision  made  for  it ;  that  here  it  has  no  abiding  city.  It 
has  not  its  suitable  appliances  here.  Here  it  is  tangled,  and  ham- 
pered, and  imjjrisoned,  and  heavily  laden,  and  oppressed.  It  is 
laughed  at  in  its  inception,  and  is  expected  to  wear  out.  Yet  there 
is  in  every  soul  that  knows  how  deeply  and  truly  to  love  the  convic-  * 
tion  that  somewhere  there  must  be  a  better  exj)ression  of  that  which 
is  the  very  marrow  of  life  itself 

We  can  imagine  without  violent  shock  the  decadence  and  sleep  of 
every  faculty  but  love.  If  a  man  does  not  believe  in  immortality,  let 
him  apply  his  doctrine  to  reason,  and  he  says,  "  Stars  go  down,  and 
why  not  the  reason  ?  It  may  go  down  into  darkness,  or  it  may  rise 
somewhere  else  in  another  personality."  All  the  faculties  of  the  soul 
might  come  up  in  order,  and  one  after  another  might  be  imagined  to 
be  consigned  to  the  sleep  that  all  shall  find  if  there  be  no  life  hereaf- 
ter ;  but  no  man  ever  loved  his  mother,  and  consigned  her  with  any 
tolerance  to  an  everlasting  sleep."  No  man  ever  loved  his  wife,  and 
buried  her,  saying,  Avith  any  composure,  "  There  is  no  immortality  for 
her."  No  man  ever  bore  his  child  to  the  grave,  though  it  were  one 
that  he  could  carry  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  that  every  thing  in  his 
nature  did  not  rise  up,  and  say,  "  Let  me  find  it  again,"  No 
man  ever  proudly  loved  a  heroic  father,  and  consented  that  tha;t. 
father  should  go  to  extinction.  The  flame  of  love,  once  shining,  no 
one  can  endure  to  believe  will  ever  go  out.  Love,  therefore,  teaches 
the  soul  to  long  for,  and  to  believe  in,  "a  better  land. 


THE  POWER    OF  LOVE.  443 

If  you  think  that  in  this  diverse  but  brief  exjjosition  of  the  j)o\ver 
of  love,  I  have  transcended  good  reason,  listen  and  see  whether  I 
have  equaled  the  declarations  of  Scripture  on  the  same  subject.  If 
you  think  I  have  been  extravagant,  is  not  the  apostle  more  extrava- 
gant? 

"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have 
not  love,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.  And 
though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries, 
and  all  knowledge  ;  and  though  I  have  faith,  so  that  I  could  remove 
mountains,  and  have  not  love,  I  am  nothing.  And  though  I  bestow 
all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body  to  be 
burned,  and  have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing."  "  Love  never 
faileth ;  but  whether  there  be  prophecies,  they  shall  fail ;  whether 
there  be  tongues,  they  shall  cease ;  whether  there  be  knowledge,  it 
shall  vanish  away."  "  And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  love,  these 
three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  love." 

Upon  all,  then,  who  have  learned  this  sacred  secret ;  upon  all  who 
have  been  scholars  to  Christianity  and  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
have  learned  to  love  Christ  in  perpetuity,  permanently — upon  all 
these,  "grace,"  from  God  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  grace  from  all  Christian  men,  in  godly  fellowship. 

If  these  things  be  so,  then  the  love-producing  i^ower  is  the  test 
and  criterion  of  all  theologies,  and  all  churches,  and  all  ordinances. 
We  have  been  accustomed  to  search  for  these  things  on  the  side  of 
reason.  We  have  sought  by  logic,  by  philosophy,  and  by  processes 
of  ratiocination,  to  settle  the  relative  merits  of  different  beliefs  and 
different  organizations.     And  we  have  failed. 

The  true  church  is  the  o-ne  which  has  in  it  the  divine  art  of  jiroduc- 
ing  love,  and  that  continuously.  It  matters  not  whether  your  or- 
dinances were  ever  thought  of  by  the  apostles.  An  ordinance  is  a 
good  one  if  it  leads  you  to  love.  It  makes  no  difference  to  rae  if  you 
pile  up  symbols,  and  invent  rituals.  Pile  them  up.  Invent  them. 
Let  there  be  a  new  one  for  every  round  day  of  the  year.  All  I  ask 
is.  Do  they  educate  to  lov§  ?  They  are  good  if  they  inspire  love, 
if  they  continue  it,  and  if  they  purify  it ;  and  they  are  not  a  whit 
worse  if  you  show  that  they  are  men's  inventions.  I  impose  them 
upon  men,  not  because  they  have  authenticity  in  history,  but  because 
that  is  authentic  which  has  the  power  of  creating  love  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and,  through  that  love,  to  our  fellow-men.  On  the 
other  hand,  bring  your  hoary  ceremonials  of  eighteen  hundred  years' 
pilgrimage,  and  show  that  ages  and  ages  have  passed  over  them — 
they  are  of  no  value  except  for  what  they  can  do.  And  what  they 
can  do  is  of  no  account  if  they  can  not  do  this  highest  thing — create 
love. 


4U  THE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

"  Grace  be  with  all  them  that  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sin- 
cerity !  "  Grace  be  upon  all  theologians  that  tend  to  create  love  ; 
upon  all  services  that  tend  to  inspire  love;  upon  all  organizations 
that  tend  to  promote  love.  No  grace  upon  any  thing  else.  That 
which  does  not  touch  love  does  not  touch  any  thing  religious  which 
is  worth  our  consideration — certainly  not  worth  our  suffering  for. 

How  vast,  then,  has  been  the  waste  of  zeal !  How  vast  the  waste 
of  the  understanding !  How  has  the  Christian  world  taxed  itself 
uselessly  ! 

There  stands,  on  the  side  of  a  flowing  stream,  an  old  mill,  low- 
jointed,  shattered,  never  very  comely.  Industrious  is  the  miller; 
and  he  gathers  wheat  far  and  wide.  Night  and  day,  although  the 
stream  be  slender,  economizing  its  force,  he  grinds  the  wheat.  And 
there  go  forth  barrels  of  flour  in  continuous  streams  from-  that  old 
mill.     Men  get  bread  there. 

Near  this  mill  a  vast  structure  has  gone  uj^,  ten  stories  high. 
The  most  approved  patterns  have  been  found  for  the  machinery. 
The  best  joiners  have  been  brought  in  to  do  the  interior  work.  Not 
much  wheat  goes  in  there ;  but  there  is  an  enormous  dispute — a  great 
argument  going  on,  as  to  whether  the  mill  is  framed  right ;  and  as  to 
whether  the  machinery  is  properly  made ;  and  as  to  whether  the  best 
stone  have  been  secured  ;  and  as  to  whether  the  rafters  are  put  on 
just  as  they,  should  be.  An  exciting  discussion  is  kept  up  in  regard 
to  every  part  of  the  stVucture  and  its  appointments.  Every  man 
contends  that  the  part  with  which  he  had  any  thing  to  do  is  com- 
plete ;  and  the  claim  is  well  substantiated.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  mill  is  a  superior  one.  The  only  trouble  is,  that  but  little  wheat 
goes  in,  and  but  little  flour  goes  out.  It>  is  an  admirable  orthodox 
mill,  and  can  be  proved  to  be  such.  It  is  good  for  every  thing  but 
grinding  wheat — which  happens  to  be  the  only  thing  which  it  was 
appointed  to  do. 

Yonder,  in  an  old  shattered,  tumble-down  building,  is  a  gather- 
ing of  poor  humble  people.  They  know  very  little  of  doctrine,  and 
very  little  of  ordinances,  and  very  little  of  any  thing  but  their  souls' 
need.  They  come  together,  and  pray,  and  rejoice,  and  love  Christ, 
and  learn  to  love  one  another. 

Not  far  from  them  rise  the  noble  proportions  of  a  stately  church, 
where  a  large  and  wealthy  congregation  assemble  to  worship.  They 
have  their  altars,  and  vestments,  and  ordinances,  and  observances. 
They  have  their  ritual,  so  that  there  is  not  one  free  moment,  and  not 
one  imharnessed  idea,  and  every  thing  has  its  theological  comb,  or 
tail-feather,  or  wing  !  They  are  so  busy  about  the  machinery  of  the 
church  that  they  have  not  time  for  much  else. 

Give  me  the  little  mill  that  grinds  out  loving  men,  and  you  may 


THE  POWER    OF  LOVE.  445 

have  the  great  mill  that  turns  out  ecclesiastics !  The  grace  of  God 
be  upon  all  that  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  preeminently  and  sin- 
cerely, no  matter  how  obscure  they  are,  and  no  matter  how  unapos- 
tolic  they  are. 

There  stands  that  good  old  man  in  Rome,  Pope  Pius  IX.  He  is 
not  necessarily  a  bit  better  for  being  pope,  nor  a  bit  worse.  If  he 
loves  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  and  in  truth,  he  is  no  wliit 
less  a  Christian  because  he  is  joined  to  that  most  elaborate,  complex, 
and  needless  system  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  If  a  man  is  a 
cardinal,  and  loves  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  is  just  as  good  as 
though  he  were  a  private  Christian.  If  a  man  is  a  bishop,  and  he 
only  loves  Christ,  he  has  a  chance  to  go  to  heaven.  A  man  may 
have  all  the  besetments  of  pride  and  ambition ;  a  man  may  be  drawn 
by  all  the  cords  that  tend  to  lead  him  toward  the  senses ;  a  man's 
Avhole  economy  of  religion  may  tend  to  sensuousness ;  a  man  may  so 
have  forgotten  the  nature  of  true  Christianity  that  he  shall  turn  it 
end  for  end,  and  take  spiritual  things,  and  forever  materialize  them, 
and  bring  down  the  power  of  faith  to  the  power  of  sight ;  a  man's 
whole  genius  may  be  to  incarnate  and  so  strengthen  in  liim  that 
which  is  already  too  strong ;  and.  yet,  if  he  loves  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  it  is  in  the  power  of  that  love  to  make  him  a  Christian,  and  a 
lovable  Christian.  And  on  him  be  grace !  Let  every  man  say  it. 
Love  should  stand  higher  than  any  other  thing. 

Though  a  man  be  a  Calvinist,  and  though  he  be  hirsute,  rugged, 
cold,  bigoted,  and  a  stickler  for  doctrine,  if  he  only  loves,  his  theo- 
logy will  not  hurt  him.  Though  a  man  be  an  Arminian — nay,  though 
he  be  something  lower  than  that — though  he  be»so  heretical  as  not 
to  believe  that  Christ  is  divine — yet  if  he  loves  him  just  as  much 
as  if  he  believed  him  to  be  divine,  grace  be  on  him !  For  there  is 
in  love  a  logic  that  is  mightier  than  interpretation.  There  is  a 
heart-logic  that  is  more  than  head-logic,  and  that  saves  a  man  in  spite 
of  his  head.  So  that  a  man's  salvation  does  not  depend  on  his  creed. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  say  that  a  creed  is  of  no  consequence.  It  is  of  a 
great  deal  of  consequence ;  but  love  is  of  a  great  deal  more  conse- 
quence ;  and  if  there  be  but  one,  it  is  infinitely  better  that  it  should 
be  love.  The  marrow  of  a  true  religion  is  love.  And  whether  a  man 
be  high-church,  or  low-church'  or  new-church,  or  no-church ;  whether 
he  hold  this  creed,  or  that  creed,  or  no  creed,  if  he  has  this  saving 
power  of  love  in  the  soul,  grace  be  upon  him  ! 

The  three  great  elements  on  which  the  church  has  erred  are,  or- 
ganization, administration,  and  the  rational  element.  Churches  are 
divided,  as  to,their  organization,  among- themselves.  Some  claim  to 
be  apostolic,  and  regard  all  others  as  lawless  and  self-constituted. 
Again,  churches  are  divided  by  their  mode  of  worship,  and  their  ex- 


44G  THE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

tei'nal  government.  Doubtless  there  are  preferences.  Some  modea 
of  woi'ship  are  better  than  others,  and  some  forms  of  government  are 
better  than  others.  Churches  are  divided,  also,  by  the  rational  ele- 
ment, some  holding  to  one  form  of  Christian  philosophy  and  some  to 
another.  In  this  respect  they  vary  almost  endlessly,  in  their  open 
avowals ;  and  you  Avould  find  that  they  varied  still  more,  if  you  could 
trace  the  secret  thoughts  and  feelings  of  individuals,  to  which  no  ex- 
pression is  given.  The  three  great  powers  that  are  shaping  the  sects 
of  Christendom,  and  dividing  them,  are  the  spirit  of  organization,  the 
spirit  of  administration,  and  the  rational  spirit. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  sympathetic,  unitizing,  harmonizing  lore- 
principle  has  never  yet  had  a  very  general  expression.  It  has  been 
incidental ;  it  has  been  lai'gely  local  and  personal ;  it  has  never  been 
made  the  one  dominant  influence  either  in  any  age  or  in  any  church. 

I  admit  that  there  has  been  in  the  past  more  reason  than  there 
seems  to  be  now,. for  the  maintenance  of  these  separating  elements. 
For  we  are  to  remember  that  religion  has  come  through  a  hostile 
world,  and  that  in  its  various  periods  it  has  been  obliged  to  organize 
for  its  own  life,  to  administer  for  its  own  safety,  and  to  make  of  ra- 
tional doctrines  critical  tests.  There  have  been  periods  when  these 
things  had  an  importance  which  they  have  now  ceased  to  have.  In 
other  words,  Christianity  has  come  down  to  us,  in  its  internal  organi- 
zation, during  a  time  of  war,  "VVe  have  come,  at  last,  in  the  world's 
history,  to  a  day  of  peace.  And  that  which  was  useful  in  war  ought 
not  to  be  derided,  although  it  may  be  laid  aside,  now  that  peace  has 
come,  and  it  is  no  longer  needed.  And  there  are  a  great  many  things 
in  the  organization  of  the  church  that  might  be  laid  aside  as  no 
longer  useful.  There  are  many  points  that  were  once  insisted  upon, 
in  the  doctrines  of  the  church,  which  might  be  suifered  to  go  into 
desuetude.  What  if,  now  that  the  war  is  passed,  and  men  are  devot- 
ing themselves  to  husbandry,  they  should  undertake  to  keep  intact 
all  those  means  of  carrying  on  war  which  were  necessary  before 
peace  Avas  declared  ?  The  church  was  for  long  periods  encamped  in 
battle  array,  and  the  world  is  attempting  to  keep  intact  those  war- 
like elements  that  were  useful  in  the  time  of  struggle,  but  that  have 
ceased  to  be  useful  now  that  it  has  come  out  of  the  struggle. 

Violent  attacks  are  made  on  men,  in  order  to  change  them ;  but 
that  is  not  the  best  way  to  change  them,  nor  to  bring  them  into  a 
redeeming  spii'it  of  love.  Little  will  be  done  in  this  world  to  change 
men  by  controversy.  We  must  make  that  chief  in  us,  and  in  the 
church,  which  we  believe  to  be  chief  in  Christianity — namely,  the 
spirit  of  love.  We  must  intensify  this  feeling.  If  we  would  re- 
turn toward  it,  we  must  reform  hy  it.  We  must  produce  an  atmo- 
sphere, we  must- create  a  public  sentiment,  such  that  churches  will 


THE  POWER    OF  LOVE.  447 

feel  the  superiority  of  love  over  organization,  and  ordinance,  and 
doctrine. 

I  am  asked  often,  "  Do  you  believe  in  ordinances  as  they  are  held 
in  the  Baj^tist  Church?"  No.  "Ought  tliey  not  to  be  disabused  of 
their  error?"  I  have  a  better  way  than  by  controversy.  Let  them 
have  the  ordinance  as  they  believe  in  it ;  and  ^f  it  leads  them  *o  close 
communion,  let  it  lead  them  to  close  communion.  Thank  God,  church 
life  is  not  Christian  life.  We  are  thrown  together  in  various  ways.  I 
am  not  confined  in  my  sympathy  with  my  Christian  brethren  to  that 
which  relates  to  administration  in  their  churches.  I  meet  them  on 
the  street,  and.  in  business,  and  transact  public  affairs  with  them.  I 
am  with  them  day  and  night.  And  I  insist  upon  the  power  of  true 
love.  Let  them  hold  their  ordinances  and  their  doctrines.  Do  not 
fight  with  them  nor  quarrel  with  them.  Do  not  controvert  them. 
Simply  bring  to  them  the  confidence  whicli  springs  from  a  true  love, 
and  they  will  recognize  the  superiority  of  that  element.  Notliing  in 
which  churches  differ  will  ever  be  settled  so  long  as  we  are  assa\ilt- 
ing  them,  and  contending  with  them.  You  never  will  change  Epis- 
copalianism  or  Romanism  by  controversy.  Tliey  will  be  changed,  if 
at  all,  because  there  will  steadily  rise  up  that  which  the  Christian 
world  will  regard  as  more  important — namely,  a  true  Christian  life 
— a  life  of  love.  When  the  world  is  firll  of  that  element,  the  work 
will  be  accomplished  as  a  natural  result  of  the  existing  state  of 
things. 

Li  this  light,  how  in  a  moment  the  range  of  fellowship  will  be  ex- 
tended and  exalted !  For  fellowslyp  is  coextensive  with  love.  Grace 
be  upon  all  that  love. 

Rise,  then,  in  a  moment  of  contemplation,  and  look  abroad  over 
the  Greek  Church,  and  the  myriads  that  are  included  in  it.  Do  not 
you  believe  that  there  are  among  its  priesthood  thousands  of  holy 
men ;  and  among  its  men,  women,  and  children  multitudes  of  truly 
religious  jieople  ?  Are  there  not  in  that  church  many  to  whom  your 
heart  might  well  go  out,  and  to  whom  you.  might  say,  "Grace  be 
upon  you"?  The  pecialiar  form  of  its  organization  sinks  out  of 
sight  in  the  light  of  the  fact  that  there  are  in  that  church  multitudes 
who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity. 

Take  the  Roman  Church.  Are  we  to  look  at  it  simply  as  inspiriufi- 
controversy  ?  Is  there  not  a  jjoint  at  which  we  can  stand  and  say, 
"  How  many  holy  and  praying  bishops,  and  how  many  holy  priests, 
and  how  many  Christian  men  and  women  there  are  in  that  church  "  ? 
Whatever  their  creeds,  doctrines,  and  .dogmas  may  be,  if  they  love 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  their  fellow-men,  are  thoy  not  sons  ?  Am 
I  not  in  fellowship  with  them  ? 

Take  the  Episcopal  Church,  with  all  its  sects — for  it  is  internally 


448  THE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

divided.  Do  you  suppose  it  is  wise  for  us  to  be  constantly  making  com- 
parisons, and  questioning  whether  that  elaborate  organization  is  bet- 
ter than  our  simpler  one  ?  Look  into  its  membership,  and  see  how 
many  holy  men  and  loving  hearts  are  there.  And  you  are  joined  to 
them.  You  do  not  need  to  join  a  church  to  be  joined  to  its  mem- 
bers. 

The  Greek  Chui'ch,  the  Roman  Church,  and  the  Episcopal  Church 
are  externally  one.  Internally  they  are  just  as  diverse  as  Protestan- 
tism, which  is  divided  up  obviously  and  visibly,  just  as  they  are  in- 
visibly. But  whatever  may  be  their  faults  and  failings,  all  those? 
of  every  church  and  every  faith,  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and 
their  fellow-men  in  sincerity,  are  of  our  fellowship — and  grace  be  upon 
them ! 

When  we  come  to  be  released  from  the  narrowness  of  our  own 
church  and  our  own  sect,  how  joyful  is  the  brotherhood  of  good  men ! 
and  how  strong  are  we!  We  are  apt  to  suppose  that  Christ's  church 
is  identical  with  our  sect.  When  we  are  looking  abroad  and  measur- 
ing the  progress  of  Christianity,  we  are  perpetually  tempted  to  sel- 
fishness and  conceit.  It  is  the  progi-ess  of  the  Baptist  Church,  or  of 
the  Methodist  Church,  or  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  or  of  the  Con- 
gregational churches,  that  inspires  in  us  the  conviction  that  Christ's 
kingdom  is  growing. 

But  take  a  larger  look.  Wherever,  under  any  name,  men  love 
Christ  and  their  fellow-men,  they  are  Christ's,  and  are  spreading 
Christ's  kingdom.  And  how  glorious  is  the  church  of  God  now  upon 
the  earth  !  Not  that  narrow,  contending  church  which  the  eye  can 
see ;  not  that  church  upon  which  you  can  put  the  arithmetic,  and 
which  you  can  measure ;  not  that  church  whose  cathedrals  and  build- 
ings you  can  behold — not  that  is  the  church  of  God  :  but  that  larger 
church  which  is  invisible.  That  is  the  only  true  church.  The  outward 
church,  as  men  look  upon  it,  is  split  up,  and  is  pursuing  a  various 
controversy,  with  diverse  weapons ;  but  there  is  a  church  wherein 
there  is  harmony ;  and  that  is  the  invisible  church,  which  is  made 
up  of  good  men.  It  is  that  church  which  is  made  up  of  the  concur- 
i-ing  hearts  of  those  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  and 
in  truth. 

More  are  they  than  we  dream.  The  world  is  richer  than  we  think. 
Take  your  statistics,  not  by  your  selfish  side,  but  by  the  side  of  a  larger 
faith,  and  a  more  loving  f\iith,  and  how  many  are  there  on  the  side  of 
God  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  are  near  and  dear  to  you,  and 
who,  if  they  are  not  blood  kindred  to  you,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of 
that  term,  are,  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  made  your  intimate  relations 
— your  brothers  and  sisters  ! 

The  world  is  full  of  good  men ;  and  to  all  of  them  does  your  heart 


THE  POWEB    OF  LOVE.  449 

say,  "  Grace  be  unto  you" !  Take  a  man,  ^ough  he  does  not  believe 
in  the  "  decrees,"  if  he  loves  Christ.  Take  him,  though  he  does  not 
believe  in  the  "  perseverance  of  the  saints,"  if  he  perseveres,  and  loves 
Christ  with  a  persevering  love.  Take  him,  though  he  believes  that 
there  is  no  minister  without  the  imposition  of  bishops'  hands,  if  he 
loves  Jesus  Christ.  Where  there  is  love  to  Christ,  do  not  let  these 
minor  faults  stand  between  the  great  excellence  and  you.  Take  him, 
though  all  his  doctrinal  views  be  seriously  seamed  and  flawed  with 
error,  though  a  false  philosophy  may  uuderrun  the  whole,  if  his  heart 
only  loves  God. 

The  question  of  what  they  shall  do  who  are  to  be  instructors  of 
men  is  very  different  from  the  question  of  what  men  shall  do  in  fel- 
lowship one  with  another.  Love  every  good  man.  Trust  every 
good  man.  Draw  him  to  you.  And  little  by  little,  as  this  greater 
power  of  the  greater  sympathy  of  the  reigning  love  comes  to  have 
freedom,  and  we  think  less  of  the  things  in  which  we  disagree,  and 
cooperate  more  in  the  things  in  which  we  agree,  there  will  rise  up  a 
consciousness  of  a  common  bond  which  will  make  these  divisions 
utterly  impossible. 

It  is  the  bad  conduct  of  men  who  are  sectarians,  and  not  the  fact 
that  they  have  sejDarate  organizations,  that  makes  them  malignant 
and  mischievous.  And  in  the  summer  that  is  coming,  men  who  love 
Christ  and  each  other  will  be  united,  so  that  though  they  stand  seve- 
rally in  their  own  peculiarities  of  doctrines,  and  ordinances,  and  gov- 
ernments, and  administrations,  they  yet  will  be  in  harmony  one  with 
another.  And  the  world  will  rejoice  in  this  great  one,  though  invi- 
sible, church  of  Christ  Jesus. 

On  such  a  day  as  this,*  when  we  are  to  be  united  one  to  another, 
it  is  a  great  comfort  to  my  sjDirit  to  think  that  I  am  in  communion 
wdth  the  church  general  and  universal.  With  all  that  have  finished 
their  contest,  and  gone  home  to  glory,  I  am  in  communion  to-day. 
They  long  for  me,  and  I  long  for  them.  With  all  good  men  and 
true,  that  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  every  church  on  earth,  I  am 
in  fellowship  to-day.  And  I  say,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heai't,  Grace 
be  upon  all  that  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  ! 

If  there  be,  therefore,  in  this  congregation,  those  that  have  in 
them  this  test  and  mark — not  a  mere  transient  sympathy,  not  simply 
an  occasional  impulse  of  love,  but  a  deep  and  abiding  symj^athy  for 
God  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  a  yearning  for  him — to  you  I  extend  the 
right  hand  of  fellowsliip  to-day.  And  when,  in  a  moment,  we  sliall 
gather  around  the  table  which  symbolizes  the  body  of  Christ  broken, 
and  his  blood  shed,  for  us,  I  cordially  invite  you  to  partake  with  us 
of  these  cuibloins,  Grace  be  upon  you  !  If  you  say,  "  My  feet  have 
*  Occasion  of  recelTing  members  iato  the  charch. 


450  THE  POWER    OF  LOVE. 

never  stood  within  the  sacred  precincts  of  a  church,"  I  reply  that 
though  it  is  wise  to  be-  a  member  of  a  visible  church,  you  can  be  a 
member  of  Christ's  church  without  that.  Grace  be  upon  you! 
"But  I  belong  to  a  church  far  removed  in  communion  from  this.'* 
Nevertheless,  if  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity,  grace  be 
upon  you,  my  brother,  and  my  sister ! 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Out  of  all  our  doubts,  and  out  from  our  cares,  we  come,  O  thou  blessed  Jod  of 
light  and  of  consolation  !  How  much  do  we  need  thee  !  Left  to  ourselves,  how 
helpless  we  are !  We  have  proved  our  own  power.  We  have  proved  what  we 
can  do  for  joy,  and  what  for  purity.  We  have  proved  our  hours  of  strength  ;  and 
we  have  proved  also  our  hours  of  weakness.  And  we  know  no  longer  because 
thou  hast  said  it,  but  because  we  have  felt  it  and  proved  it,  that  without  thee  we 
can  do  nothing.  All  that  is  strong  in  us  which  we  abhor,  atod  all  that  is  feeble 
in  us  which  most  we  admire  and  desire.  It  is  thy  presence,  it  is  the  overpower- 
ing sympathy  of  thy  nature  mingling  with  ours,  that  lifts  us  above  ourselves,  or 
into  our  true  nature.  When  thou  art  present,  then  we  know  that  we  are  sons  of 
God.  When  thou  art  absent,  we  know  not  what  we  are.  We  are  servants ;  we 
are  exiles  ;  we  doubt  if  we  live  but  for  the  day  ;  we  find  ourselves  going  quickly 
back  to  the  rank  of  beasts  that  perish  ;  and  we  are  full  of  gloom  and  sadness, 
both  for  the  world  that  is  and  for  the  flow  of  events  in  life  and  history.  All 
things  seem  obscure  and  mixed  with  confusion  and  bitterness  and  disappoint- 
ments. But  when  thou  dost  show  thyself  to  us,  not  as  thou  dost  to  the  world  ; 
when  more  than  to  our  reason,  when  to  all  that  which  is  within  us  of  God,  thou 
dost  show  thyself,  teaching  our  hearts  to  feel  "Our  Father,"  and  making  thyself 
known  to  us  personally,  then  what  clouds  can  there  be  1  Then  storms  are  like 
calms,  and  darkness  is  full  of  light,  and  every  weakness  is  strong.  Then  in  in- 
firmities we  find  strange  joys.  Then  all  the  sight  of  our  eyes  doth  not  daunt  us. 
Then  the  current  of  events  flowing  wrong,  then  monstrous  wickedness  disfigiu*- 
ing  all  things,  doth  not  take  away  our  faith.  With  thy  presence  we  learn  to 
discern  a  more  glorious  future,  and  to  become  hopeful  in  all  things.  Yea,  for 
ourselves,  for  our  own  dispositions,  we  grow  hopeful.  We  believe  that  yet  sel- 
fishness shall  be  taught  grace.  We  believe  that  pride  shall  yet  lose  its  ])ower, 
and  shall  yet  lose  offence.  We  believe  that  all  that  is  strong  in  reason  shall  be 
strong  in  grace.  Thou,  O  God !  dost  temper  our  souls  as  the  sun  tempers  the 
summer  ;  and  thou  dost  create  like  it,  and  bring  forth  all  sweet  and  pleasant 
things  for  the  sight  and  the  touch. 

Our  whole  hope,  then,  is  in  thee.  By  thy  power  we  are  strong.  Without  that 
power  we  are  emptiness  and  nothing. 

Accept  our  thanks  for  such  measures  of  experience  as  we  have  had.  Had  we 
but  opened  the  door,  thou  wouldst  have  come  in.  Now  thou  hast  stood  speaking 
peace  to  us  upon  the  threshold.  Grant  us  that  knowledge  and  that  will  by  which 
we  may  persuade  thee  to  come  in  and  abide  with  us.  Come,  we  beseech  of  thee, 
to  dwell.  Come  not  to  sit  at  the  evening  meal,  and,  as  our  eyes  begin  to  be  en- 
lightened, vanish  away  from  us.     Come  to  break  bread  and  to  tarry.     Come  to 


THE  POWER    OF  LOVE.  451 

make  our  morning  joy,  our  noonday  strength,  and  our  evening  gltidncss.  Come, 
O  thou  whom  our  souls  need  ;  thou  whom  we  have  been  taught  to  love  ;  thou 
Avhom,  loving,  we  can  not  forget  to  love.  Come  and  chide,  rather  than  severely 
rebuke.  Come  and  show  the  mercy  of  pain,  if  pain  be  the  medicine.  Come  and 
show  thy  lenient  hand  in  chastisements  and  disappointments.  Only  let  us  know 
that  thou  art  about  us,  thinking  of  us,  calling  us  by  name,  dealing  with  us,  and 
let  us  know  that  we  are  sons,  and  all  shall  be  well.  Grant  unto  us,  we  beseech 
of  thee,  more  and  more  to  enter  into  the  fellowship  of  communion  ;  to  learn  thy 
secret  hiding-place  ;  to  find  thee  out  from  day  to  day,  in  light  and  in  darkness. 
May  we  rejoice  more  and  more  in  lifting  up  our  thoughts  to  thee.  May  we  see 
more  of  thy  processes  in  nature,  and  more  of  thy  nature  in  society  and  life.  May 
we  behold  thee  in  all  the  powers  that  are  exercised  upon  the  earth.  We  pray 
that  we  may  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  be  strong  in  the  God  of  our  salvation. 

Prepare  us,  we  pray  thee,  for  the  services  of  the  sanctuary  to-day  ;  prepare  us 
for  its  offices  of  instruction  ;  prepare  us  for  its  joys  and  gladnesses. 

Accept  the  thanksgiving  of  many  hearts  that  to-day  are  to  be  affianced  to  thee 
— that  are  to  be  united  before  the  altar  of  their  God.  Rejoice,  we  beseech  of  thee, 
the  hearts  of  those  that  look  upon  them — parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  dear 
friends.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  the  coming  into  ouy  midst  of  those  that  are 
now  in  the  zeal  of  love  avowing  the  faith  of  Christ  Jesus  and  his  leadership,  may 
be  a  blessing  to  them  and  a  blessing  to  us.  May  there  be  many  more  in  whom 
the  new  life  shall  be  a  beacon.  Dawn  with  sacred  morning  upon  the  noon  of 
many  who  have  passed  half  through  life.  Yea,  look  upon  those  who  are  far 
along,  and  who  have  misspent  many  and  many  a  year.  Bring  them,  too,  back  to 
the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  their  souls.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that 
there  may  be  from  out  of  this  congregation  a  great  ingathering  of  witnesses  to 
the  mercy  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  May  they  who  are  walking  in  an  evil 
way  think  better  of  themselves  than  to  be  sold  slaves  unto  Satan.  May  those 
that  are  turning  away  from  evil  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,  and  lay  hold  upon 
victory.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those  who  are  indifferent,  and  those  who  are 
swallowed  up  in  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  or  in  its  business,  may  be  aroused 
before  it  is  too  late,  and  brought  to  a  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus. 

Make  thy  faith  efficacious.  Teach  thy  servant  how  better  to  preach  it.  Grant 
that  thy  servants  in  this  church  may  labor  together  with  us  in  word  and  in  doc- 
trine. Bless  all  those  that  teach  in  Sabbath-schools  and  in  Bible-classes.  Bless 
those  that  go  forth  among  the  poor  and  the  ignoramt  to  instruct  them.  Bless 
those  that  carry  mercies  wherever  they  go ;  and  may  they  not  fail  to  follow 
Christ  in  the  way  of  love  and  mercy. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  this  church  may  long  stand. 
May  thy  name  be  glorified  in  it.  May  the  truth  here  have  might,  and  go  on 
rolling  down  in  power  to  many  generations.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy 
blessing  to  rest  upon  all  churches  that  worship  this  day,  wherever  they  are. 
Strengthen  thy  servants  to  preach.  Grant  that  thy  people  may  be  alive  and  full 
of  generous  activities.  Bless  all  causes  of  organized  benevolence.  Grant  that 
everywhere  intelligence  may  prevail.  May  justice  rule.  May  purity  be  more 
and  more  infused,  both  into  law  and  into  the  executors  of  law.  And  may  the 
whole  land,  regenerated,  become  a  truly  Christian  land. 

Hear  us  in  these  petitions,  and  answer  us,  for  Christ's  sake. 


XXVI. 

The  Preciousness  of  Christ. 


THE  PRECIOUSNESS  OF  CHRIST. 


SUNDAY  EVENING,   JUNE   27,   18G9. 


"  Unto  you,  therefore,  wMch  believe,  He  is  precious." — 1  Peter  ii.  7. 


I  SHALL  not  disturb  the  rendering  of  our  authorized  version,  but 
shall  take  the  language  just  as  it  stands.  For,  although  the  later 
commentators  render  tliese  words  by  another  terra,  and  with  a  little 
different  meaning  from  that  of  the  term  j•>/•ec^o^<s,  they  substantially 
agree  ;  and  the  truth  is  so  far  given  to  our  authorized  version,  and  to 
the  original,  as  to  form  a  just  ground  for  the  subject  of  this  evening's 
discourse. 

It  is  Christ  of  whom  the  apostle  speaks.  He  it  is  that  becomes 
so  precious  as  an  object  of  faith.  Principally  to  the  Jews  the  apostle 
was  directing  his  thought.  Christ  is  represented  as  a  "  stumbling- 
block."  He  is  represented  as  a  "  stone  " — a  "  corner-stone  " — knitting 
together,  as  it  were,  the  two  sides  of  the  wall ;  and,  as  some  have  sup- 
posed, knitting  together  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile  world.  He  was  to 
be  a  stumbling  to  some,  and  yet  a  "  precious  corner-stone."  And 
then,  as  if  passing  from  that  idea,  he  is  represented  as  being  precious 
to  those  that  believe. 

The  idea  of  preciousness  is  primarily  a  commercial  idea,  and,  like 
most  of  the  terms  in  our  language  which  sprang  from  physical  uses, 
it  became  afterward  a  moral  term.  It  is  applied  originally  to  sub- 
stances, and  is  derived  from  a  Latin  term  which  signifies  jivice. 
That  which  is  priceful,  that  which  brings  a  great  price,  is  precious. 
It  is  that  which  commands  the  market.  That  which  is  common  and 
plenty  never  does.  Therefore  preciousness  carries  the  intrinsic  value, 
either  in  its  use,  or  beauty,  or  quality,  or  rarity — uncommonness. 
Mere  rarity  does  not  make  any  thing  precious.  There  must  be  somo 
other  quality  as  well,  or  there  can  not  be  preciousness.  There  are 
many  minerals  that  are  far  more  rare  than  silver  or  gold  ;  but  they 

Lesson  :  1  Peter  iil.  8-22.    Brraxs  (Plymouth  CoHection) :  Nos  199,  597,  657. 


454  THE  PBECI0USNES8  OF  CHBIST. 

ai'e  not  as  valuable,  and  would  not  command  as  great  a  price,  and 
are  not  as  precious.  On  the  other  hand,  things  that  have  beauty  and 
usefulness  in  them  are  not  precious  on  that  account  alone.  For,  if 
opals  and  diamonds  were  as  plenty  as  garnets,  they  would  command 
no  higher  i^rice,  in  sjiite  of  their  beauty.  Quality  and  rarity  must 
be  combined  in  order  to  make  a  thing  precious. 

When  Raphael  created  a  Madonna,  or  a  Transfiguration,  or  any 
other  scene  of  the  matchless  series  which  came  from  his  mind,  the 
j)icture  was  unspeakably  precious  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  beauty 
and  exquisiteness,  and  on  account  of  its  rarity.  There  was  but  one. 
But  if,  now,  an  artist  should  chromo-lithograph  it,  and  flood  the  mar- 
ket with  cojHes  so  exactly  reproduced  that  the  ordinary  eye  could 
not  tell  the  copy  from  the  original,  its  value  would  fall  immensely. 
It  would  be  common.  And  it  would  not  be  precious,  however  beau- 
tiful the  coj)ies  might  be.     It  would  lack  the  quality  of  I'arity. 

And  so,  it  will  be  found  universally,  that  a  thing,  to  be  precious, 
must  be,  as  it  were,  unique,  scarce,  rare ;  and  it  must,  in  addition  to 
rarity,  have  intrinsic  excellences,  either  of  use  or  of  beauty. 

The  transfer  of  this  idea  of  jireciousness  from  things  to  persons  is 
worthy  of  remark.  Originally,  I  have  said,  it  was  ajjplied  to  commodi- 
ties ;  but  as  words,  which  begin  with  a  servile  or  material  use,  frequently 
come  to  take  on  secondary  uses,  so  it  is  here.  This  word  signifies, 
when  applied  to  persons,  that  they  are  much  prized ;  that  they  are 
to  us  what  jewels  are  to  the  possessor — only  we  value  them  with  that 
difference  which  exists  between  the  estimates  Avhich  we  put  upon 
living  qualities  and  dead  substances.  And  we  prize  living  qualities 
rery  differently.  It  makes  a  great  deal  of  difference  in  our  estimate, 
whether  it  is  the  affections  that  are  being  considered,  or  whether  it  is 
the  commercial  understanding. 

If  this  matter  be  closely  scanned,  it  will  be  found  that  the  nature 
of  rarity  and  beauty  which  belongs  to  property  is  subtly  transferred 
to  the  preciousness  of  character  or  person.  For  qualities  that  are 
rare  are  indispensable  to  preciousness  ;  and  things,  in  order  to  be  pre- 
cious, are  not  only  to  be  rai-e,  but  they  are  to  be  productive  of  value 
or  pleasure.  v 

Men  who  in  art  and  in  artisanship  have  singular  skill,  and  who 
are  therefore  few  in  number,  and  not  easily  found,  are  precious  ar 
tists,  or  precious  workmen.  A  man  is  precious,  not  only  because  he 
has  extraordinary  skill,  but  because  there  are  few  who  have  that  skill. 
A  man  is  precious,  because,  being  superior  in  cultivation,  he  stands 
with  few  competitors. 

In  friendship,  not  common  friends,  which  any  body  can  have  in 
swarms,  good-natured  as  flies,  and  as  useless — not  such  friends  are 
precious ;  but  those  that  are  rare,  those  that  have  friendship  quali- 


THE  PBEC10USNE88  OF  CEEIST  455 

ties  not  usually  possessed,  or  in  a  condition  not  usually  found,  or  with 
a  power  of  touching  the  chords  of  the  heart  with  such  results  as  few 
can  produce — these  are  precious. 

There  are  a  great  many  friends,  but  there  are  very  few  precious 
ones.  In  love  they  only  ai'e  precious  whose  nature  is  well  framed, 
fitly  balanced,  admirably  carried,  and  related  to  us  by  rare  and 
beautiful  affections  and  conduct.  We  may  say  that  one  who  has  such 
a  nature  is  precious.  Either  it  must  be  so,  or  it  must  seem  to  be  so. 
It  makes  but  little  difference  which.  For  that  which  we  think  we  see 
is  to  us  as  if  we  saw  it. 

All  that  rare  beauty  which  homely  children  have  in  the  eyes  of 
their  mothers  is  just  as  good  as  if  it  were  real.  To  the  mothers  they 
are  handsome.  All  those  rare  traits  which  the  young  lover  sees  in 
his  first  love,  and  which  make  her  angelic,  are  as  good  as  if  they 
were  real — while  they  last.  The  only  difference  between  the  imagi- 
nary and  the  real  is  in  the  quality  of  enduring.  While  the  convic- 
tion hovers,  while  the  blissful  mistake  is  as  if  it  were  real,  it  pro- 
duces precisely  the  same  effect.  Things  are  precious  while  they  are 
thought  to  be  precious. 

The  man  that  fills  his  pocket  with  jjyrites — iron  crystals — think- 
ing it  to  be  gold,  is  as  rich  while  going  to  town  to  dispose  of  it,  as 
though  it  were  golden  sand,  or  gold  in  quartz ;  although  when  he  has 
given  it  to  the  mineralogist  to  be  tested,  and  it  turns  out  not  to 
be  gold,  it  is  no  longer  precious.  But  to  the  man  it  was  precious 
for  the  time  being. 

And  so,  in  friendship  and  affection  there  must  be  rare  qualities, 
and  they  must  be  rarely  carried  and  applied,  if  they  are  to  be  pre- 
cious. Under  such  circumstances,  if  these  qualities  really  exist,  the 
preciousness  abides.  If  they  are  merely  supposed  to  exist,  they  are 
precious  for  the  time  being. 

Christ  is  said  to  be  precious  to  those  that  "  believe  " — to  those,  in 
other  words,  whose  minds  have  been  so  opened  that  they  can  perceive 
what  really  is  in  the  Saviour.  To  those  who  have  the  full  vision,  and 
intimate  knowledge,  and  confiding  belief  ir  the  qualities  and  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Saviour,  he  becomes  precious. 

And  this  is  no  imagination.  For,  although  the  conceptions  which 
we  may  form  may  prove  by  and  by  to  have  been  in  a  thousand  re- 
spects disproportionate  and  erring,  there  will  always  be  the.  fact  that 
they  erred  on  the  under  side.  When  the  man  brings  his  supposed  gold, 
his  mistake  is  in  the  fact  that  it  is  not  worth  a  thousandth  part  as 
much  as  gold.  When  a  man  brings  a  crystal,  thinking,  "  Surely  I 
have  found  a  diamond,"  he  is  mistaken  ;  and  his  mistake  is  in  the  fact 
that  it  is  not  worth  near  so  much  as  he  thought. 

We  can  not  suppose  that  we  have  the  truest  idea  of  God — certainly 


45G    •  THE  PBECIOXJSNESS   OF  CHRIST. 

not.  "  Now  we  see,"  says  the  apostle,  "  through  a  glass  darkly  ;  but 
then  face  to  face :  now  I  know  in  part  "  — in  mere  fragments,  in  bits, 
having,  as  it  were,  the  ends  of  knowledge;  "but  then  shall  I  know 
even  as  also  I  am  known."  And  all  the  mistakes  that  we  commit,  or 
are  liable  to  commit,  in  the  knowledge  of  God,  as  represented  to  us  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  are  mistakes  which  are  just  the  reverse  of 
those  which  are  made  in  regard  to  objects  of  value  in  commerce.  He 
is  infinitely  more  beautiful  than  our  most  extravagant  imagination 
ever  paints.  He  is  infinitely  more  tender  and  more  wise  than  we  ever 
conceived.  He  is  transcendently  nobler  than  we  ever  dreamed,  doing 
things  with  a  generosity,  with  a  lordly  courtesy,  with  a  supereminent 
delicacy,  with  a  beauty,  with  a  care  for  us,  and  with  a  harmonizing 
influence,  far  transcending  not  only  any  exjierience,  but  any  poetic 
imagination  which  is  wrought  out  from  experience,  and  carried  much 
beyond  it.  To  those  who  believe,  to  those  who  have  had  the  sacred 
vision  to  behold  him,  Christ  is  precious. 

He  is  precious  if  you  regard  him  simply  as  the  representation  to 
the  world,  in  a  form  easy  to  be  understood,  of  the  divine  nature.  For 
the  divine  nature  rises  uj)  as  the  very  consummation  of  all  those 
qualities  which  we  are  taught  to  esteem  in  each  other.  If  we  had 
not  been  brought  up  among  men,  and  had  not  been  taught  that  some 
things  are  good  and  some  bad,  that  some  things  are  beautiful  and 
some  homely,  and  that  some  things  are  right  and  some  wrong,  we 
never  could  have  either  admired  or  cared  for  God. 

The  knowledge  with  which  we  go  to  God,  the  conceptions  which 
■we  form  of  him,  and  the  susceptibility  of  our  nature  to  admire,  are 
the  result  of  that  training  which  we  have  among  men ;  and  the 
knowledge  of  God  will  seldom  go  far  beyond  the  qualities  Avhich 
exist  in  the  social  relations  of  men.  The  imagination  may  cleanse 
the  mind,  and  set  this  knowledge  in  a  higher  and  brighter  sphere; 
but  the  substratum  of  our  knowledge  is  wrought  out  among  men. 
We  are  made  in  the  image  of  God.  The  divine  qualities  which  We 
see  in  each  other — the  sweetness  of  character, .the  beauty  of  love, 
the  delicacy  and  grace  of  disinterested  kindness,  the  nobleness  and 
clarity  of  justice,  the  bright  example  of  heroism — these  elements  we 
,  gather  together  and  fashion,  every  one,  severally,  as  best  we  can,  into 
an  ideal  conception.  The  brightest  things  and  noblest  traits  among 
men  we  put  together  and  call  God.  And  every  man,  in  some  sense, 
as  he  is  created  of  God,  becomes,  in  turn,  the  creator  of  his  God.  For 
every  one  is  obliged  to  frame  for  himself  some  conception  of  the  In- 
visible. 

The  old  Greek  had  his  God  made  for  him.  When  Phidias,  with 
the  utmost  display  of  skill,  probably,  that  was  ever  manifested  upon 
earth,  built  his  august  statue  of  Olympian  Jupiter,  forty  feet  high. 


THE  PREC10USNE8S   OF  CHRIST.  *    457 

sitting  upon  his  cliair,  so  magnificent  that  when,  once  a  year,  the  cur- 
tain was  drawn,  and  the  crowd  were  permitted  to  look  upon  it, 
women  fainted  with  ecstasy  of  feeling,  and  men  were  strangely  cai*ried 
away,  it  was  believed  that  the  very  spirit  of  God  possessed  it. 
And  it  was  a  common  saying  and  motto,  in  those  days,  that  he  was 
unfortunate  who  died  without  having  seen  the  Phidian  Jove.  The 
Greek  had  no  difficulty  in  fashioning  his  idea  of  God.  His  God  had 
been  made  for  him  in  ivory  and  gold,  with  a  matchless  genius,  the 
influence  of  which  has  been  felt  from  that  day  to  this. 

But  the  Hebrews  were  permitted  to  have  no  fictile  god — no  work 
of  men's  hands.  Simply  the  qualities  of  the  divine  Being  were  made 
known  to  them.  "  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious, 
long-suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth  " — this  was  the 
material  that  was  put  into  their  hands.  The  moral  qualities  that 
went  to  constitute  the  Supreme  liuler  were  given  to  them,  and  each 
man  was  obliged  to  take  these  qualities,  and  give  them  personality  in 
his  own  imagination,  and,  if  I  may  so  say,  hang  in  the  picture  gallery 
of  his  mind  that  which  he  made  for  his  God,  using  these  mate- 
rials. 

And  that  which  was  truef  of  the  Hebrew  is  true  of  us.  Every 
man  must  needs  foshion  his  conception  of  God  as  best  he  may, 
gathering  the  best  qualities  from  among  the  best  men,  and  putting 
them  into  the  most  heroic  forms,  and  worshiping  that  which  results 
from  the  action  of  his  reason  and  of  his  enlightened  moral  sense. 

The  highest  conception  which  now  i:)revails  has  been  the  slow  re- 
swlt  of  ages  of  thought  and  ages  of  experience  of  good  men,  who 
lived  far  back  in  the  twilights  of  time,  and  transmitted  to  their  pos- 
terity, through  ages,  so  much  as  they  had  thought.  And  as  time 
rolled  on,  men  became  better,  and  were  inspired  by  higher  motives, 
and  their  administration  became  purei*,  and  their  "notions  of  God  be- 
came cleansed  and  elevated.  The  best  men  of  every  generation,  in- 
spired, developed,  taught,  led  of  God,  gave  their  best  endeavors  to 
the  illustration  of  the  divine  chai-acter,  without  completing  it.  And 
the  noble  aspect  given  to  Divinity  grew  nobler  and  nobler,  through 
successive  generations,  till  it  came  to  us  in  the  person  of  the  Lord 
Jesus.  Christ,  who  brought  down  to  us  some  part,  at  any  rate,  of  the 
divine  glory,  and  manifested  it  in  conditions  in  which  men  are  able 
to  understand  it  through  the  lore  in  wliich  they  receive  tlieir  ordi- 
nary ideas. 

Look  at  this  idea  of  God  dwelling  in  the  heavens,  in  eternal 
quietude  so  far  as  temptation  and  sin  are  concerned,  and  in  intense 
activity  so  far  as  beneficence  is  concerned — the  great  Head  and  Heart 
— the  universal  Being — the  Father  whose  thought,  and  apjDrehension, 
and  solicitude,  and  care,  and  guardianship  are  extended  through  the 


458  TEE  PBECI0U8NE88   OF  CHRIST. 

ages,  and  over  the  vast  human  family,  which  he  broods,  and  rears, 
and  develops  through  successive  generations,  and  which  he  at  last  will 
lift  above  the  stage  and  sphere  of  animalism,  and  into  spiritual 
conditions,  and  carry  still  on  into  more  intimate  relations — into  a 
blessed  companionship  and  likeness  to  his  own  self.  That  conception 
of  God  is  a  precious  one.  It  stands  unique.  It  has  no  parallel — no 
approach.  It  is  solitary  and  alone  in  the  annals  of  human  thought. 
/  am  chief.,  and  there  is  none  beside  me,  is  literally  true.  It  is  not 
the  boast  of  the  Hebrew  priests,  but  the  absolute  truth,  that  that  con- 
ception of  God  which  is  known  to  us  through  the  Hebrew  scripture, 
and  through  the  New  Testament  scripture,  stands,  among  all  the 
fashionings  of  the  divine  idea,  nobler,  more  exceedingly  beautiful, 
rarer,  and  therefore  more  precious,  than  any  other. 

But  Christ,  in  the  work  which  he  specially  proclaims,  is  One  who 
presents  to  us  an  aspect  which  can  not  but  be  precious  to  every  one 
that  believes.  Christ  represents  himself,  not  simply  as  the  guardian 
of  the  race,  not  simply  as  developing  men,  not  simply  as  supervising 
the  general  work,  but  as  having  come  specially  for  the  salvation  of 
men  from  sin,  and  their  deliverance  from  the  power  of  Satan,  and 
their  adoption  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  in  the  relation  of  sons. 
This  he  does,  not  simply  by  his  own  life,  and  by  his  own  example, 
but  likewise  by  his  own  suffering.  "He  hath  borne  our  griefs.  The 
chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  him ;  and  with  his  strij^es  we  are 
healed." 

The  glorious  doctrine  of  substituted  obedience  is  a  doctrine 
founded  in  fact ;  and  vicarious  suffering  is  a  doctrine  founded  in 
fact.  There  are  many  that  object  to  it,  and  there  are  many  state- 
ments of  it  that  are  objectionable  ;  but  the  thing  itself  sprang  from 
our  knowledge  of  the  quality  in  human  life;  and  it  is  ascribed  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ 'not  only,  but  it  is  transferred  to  character  and  to 
persons ;  and  when  it  stands  preeminently  beautiful  and  rare,  it  is 
precious. 

What  mother  is  there  that  does  not  vicariously  suffer  for  her 
child  ?  What  child  was  ever  well  brought  up  that  the  father's  vir- 
tue was  not,  as  it  were,  imputed  to  him  ?  Every  child  has  imputed 
to  him  the  good  things  which  belong  to  his  parents.  Where  a  child 
is  brought  up  right,  it  is  because  he  had  some  one  to  suffer  for  him, 
to  think  for  him,  to  go  before  him  and  open  the  way.  The  child  is 
prevented  from  suffering  by  the  suffering  of  the  parent  for  him. 
When  the  child  errs,  and  is  punished,  is  not  the  parent  punished  ? 
And  is  not  the  labor  and  effort  of  the  parent  in  reclaiming  the  child 
a  greater  suffering  than  the  suffering  of  the  child  in  his  own  endea- 
vors at  restoration  ?  Is  not  the  whole  formation  of  domestic  life  one 
that  sets  forth,  in  its  minor  relations  and  developments,  most  beauti- 


THE  PBECIOUSNESS   OF  CHRIST.  459 

fully,  tliat  very  doctrine  which  receives  its  explanation,  and  its  more 
glorious  form,  in  the  sufferings  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ? 

It  is  said  that  under  the  laws  of  nature  men  suffer  for  themselves, 
and  that  the  idea  of  an  innocent  person  suffering  for  another  is  mon- 
strous. As  if  there  ever  was  a  man  that  was  worth  any  thing,  who 
was  not  made  so  by  the  fact  that  some  innocent  person  suffered  for 
him  !  As  if  there  was  not  throughout  life  itself  the  glorious  procla- 
mation of  that  great  truth  of  the  New  Testament — the  suffering  of 
God  for  men,  that  they  through  his  righteousness,  and  not  through 
their  own,  might  be  saved  !  It  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament any  more  than  it  is  the  doctrine  of  every  Christian  household 
in  the  land.  It  is  not  a  revelation  just  made.  It  has  been  revealed 
ever  since  there  have  been  on  earth  good  men  who  loved  their  chil- 
dren, and  who,  for  the  sake  of  their  children,  were  willing  to  labor 
day  and  night,  performing  tasks,  bearing  bui'dens,  standing  between 
those  children  and  their  mistakes,  and  controlling  the  laws  of  nature, 
that  they  might  lift  them  higher  than  they  would  have  been  but  for 
such  mediations. 

I  do  not  say  that  the  mediation  and  vicarious  suffering  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  contains  in  it  nothing  more  than  that  which  is 
contained  in  the  action  of  every  family ;  but  the  idea  is,  that  the 
actions  of  every  Christian  father  and  mother  are  a  part  of  those  ele- 
ments which  go  into  the  vicarious  suffering  of  the  Saviour,  and  a  part 
also  of  that  imputing  of  righteousness  of  which  the  New  Testament 
speaks.  There  are  other  elements  that  spring  from  the  mysterious 
relation  of  Christ  to  the  moral  government,  which,  so  far  as  we 
know  any  thing  about  it,  is  nothing  but  the  realization,  in  a  grander 
form,  of  the  elements  which  go  to  make  the  household  rich  and  beau- 
tiful, and  the  representation  of  the  character  of  Christ  as  the  Re- 
deemer, by  his  own  suffering  and  death,  of  his  children  in  this  world. 
That  view  carried,  as  it  is  in  him,  up  higher  than  human  weaknesses, 
and  above  the  realm  of  the  basilar  sentiments  and  instincts,  is  made 
supremely  divine,  and  beautiful,  and  rare ;  and  since  there  is  but  one 
God,  this  is  precious.  Christ,  looked  at  in  that  relation,  becomes  to 
those  that  believe  exceedingly  precious. 

But  the  preciousness  of  Christ  is  not  merely  in  his  divinity  nor  in 
his  mediatorship.  The  familiar  experience  of  Christ,  if  it  were  to 
report  itself,  would  show  that  the  preciousness  of  the  Saviour  grows 
upon  us  by  his  personal  relationship  to  us.  It  is  what  he  becomes 
to  us  severally,  in  our  various  scenes  and  stages  of  development  in 
life,  which  makes  him  most  precious  to  us. 

Let  us  see  how  we  learn  to  love  men,  and  to  esteem  them.  A 
man  does  us  a  kindness.  That  separates  him,  to  us,  from  among 
men,  though  it  be  but  the  giving  of  a  cup  of  water.    The  least  kind- 


460  THE  PBECI0U8NES8   OF  CHRIST. 

ness  sets  a  man  ajjart,  as  it  were,  from  his  fellows.  Fbr  we  are  so 
constituted  that  self  becomes  the  interpreter  of  other  men.  He  that 
deals  justly  with  us  teaches  us  the  beauty  of  justice.  Our  self-love 
teaches  us  the  rights  of  other  men,  because  we  feel  the  wickedness 
of  the  violation  of  our  own.  The  kindnesses  of  men  to  us  separate 
them,  in  our  minds,  from  the  mass.  But  when  one  does  us  the  com- 
mon kindnesses  of  life — warms  and  clothes  the  body — these  things, 
though  they  are  specialized  in  the  memory,  are  not  to  be  compared 
with  those  offices  which  men  render  to  our  souls.  Woe  be  to  that 
man  who  never  had  a  time  when  he  felt  that  he  had  been  benefited 
by  the  influence  of  another  upon  his  mind  !  He  has  had  no  birth,  he 
is  still  in  the  Qgg,  he  is  not  hatched  nor  fledged,  and  can  not  fly, 
who  can  not  think  of  some  one  who  has  inspired  him ;  who  does  not 
look  back  and  say,  "But  for  such  and  such  persons  and  associations, 
I  never  should  have  become  what  I  am."  Sometimes  it  is  the  mas- 
ter ;  sometimes  it  is  the  employer ;  sometimes  it  is  the  teacher ; 
sometimes  it  is  the  preacher ;  sometimes  it  is  one,  and  sometimes  it 
is  another;  but  that  man  Avho  brings  on  a  crisis  in  our  mental  his- 
tory, and  gives  us  a  higher  conception  of  the  possibilities  of  the 
mind,  and  a  higher- conception  of  the  dignities  of  life,  and  something 
nobler  and  better  to  live  for,  we  remember  as  long  as  we  live. 

I  remember  one.  He  has  gone  home.  Although  I  was  in  a 
Christian  family,  and  had  eminent  conceptions  in  certain  directions, 
yet,  when  I  was  going  out  of  boyhood  into  manhood,  in  my  college 
life,  there  was,  in  the  senior  class,  a  man  who  took  me  in  his  charge, 
and  whose  influence  upon  me  was  such  that  it  was  as  if  a  door  had 
been  made,  through  which  I  could  look  out  of  common  life,  through 
into  the  supernal  life.  He  brought  home  to  my  mind  the  reality  of 
personal  consecration.  He  brought  home  to  me  a  sense  of  true  de- 
votion, and  of  communion  with  God,  such  as  I  had  never  had.  And 
if  I  were  to  live  as  long  as  Methuselah  dwelt  upon  the  earth,  I  could 
not  but  be  conscious  of  a  certain  latent  admiration  and  gratitude  for 
that  man.  He  was  in  no  resjDect  ray  companion  ;  he  was  in  no 
respect  adapted  to  be  my  social,  confidential  friend ;  and  yet,  I  never 
can  forget  what  he  did  /or  me.  I  remember  liim  as  a  man  who  was 
precious  to  me  simply  because  he  came  to  me  at  a  time  in  my  life 
when  I  needed  some  man  to  brood  me  and  carry  me  up  into  a  higher 
life,  and  supplied  that  want. 

There  are  those  who  have  received  from  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
just  that  inspiration.  There  has  come  over  their  soul  a  new  influ- 
ence. They  are  conscious  that  there  is  lifted  upon  them,  from  him,  a 
light  which  has  widened  their  horizon,  and  given  them  a  new  con- 
ception of  the  ends  of  life,  and  made  men  of  them.  There  are  those 
who  are  able  to  say,  from  day  to  day,  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  my 


THE  PBECIOUSNESS  OF  CHRIST.  461 

conversion  to  the  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — if  it  had  not  been 
for  that  which  Christ  has  done  for  me — I  never  should  have  been,  and 
ne*^er  could  have  been,  what  I  now  am."  And  he  becomes  precious 
because  he  has  indicated  to  them  that  which  is  unspeakably  valuable 
to  them— that  soul-growth  which  takes  hold  upon  eternal  conditions; 
which  inspires  in  us  not  simply  intellectual  development,  but  that 
heroism  which  gives  us  higher  ideals  of  life,  and  breaks  us  off  from 
being  the  mere  animals  which  we  are  to  begin  with,  and  teaches  us 
how  to  be  men,  and  how  to  revere  those  who  are  men  like  ourselves. 

Of  two  persons  living  in  the  same  family,  one  shall  treat  you,  as 
a  child,  with  candy,  and  cake,  and  indulgence,  and  permission,  and 
shall  be  a  kind  nurse  to  the  body ;  and  you  shall  call  her  "  Goody  " 
and  "Aunty,"  and  esteem  her  vei'y  much.  The  other  shall  not  be 
so  familiar,  shall  be  reticent ;  and  yet,  in  right  moods,  and  at  right 
times,  she  shall  not  disdain  to  take  you  up,  with  a  strange  fascina- 
tion, into  her  realm,  and  wisely  and  sweetly  interpret  to  you  her 
thought  of  life,  which  you  listen  to  at  first  Avith  vague  amazement, 
but  with  gi-owing  relish,  until  the  fire  begins  to  burn  in  your  soul. 
And  as  long  as  you  live,  you  will  remember  her  as  the  one  precious 
memory  of  your  life. 

It  is  suj^posed  that  persons  must  fall  in  love,  naturally,  with  their 
equals,  and  those  of  their  own  age.  Not  at  all.  I  think  generous, 
young  natures  are  inclined  to  fall  in  love  with  persons  twice  as  old 
as  they  are.  I  remember  two  instances  in  my  own  history,  of  wo- 
men of  eminent  excellence,  but  old  enough,  literally,  to  be  my 
mother,  in  thoughts  of  whom  I  experienced  all  those  bewitching 
feelings  Avhich  later  life  has  interpreted  to  me  as  belonging  to  true 
love.  I  revered  and  loved  them.  I  had  received  inspiration  from 
them'which  gave  a  meaning  to  life  and  to  manhood.  I  felt  conscious- 
ly so  inspired  ariS  blessed,  that  all  my  heart  went  out  in  gratitude. 
I  remember  full  well  how  I  hung  upon  their  footsteps,  ignorant,  inno- 
cent, untaught  in  the  Avays  of  the  soul ;  and  I  remember  the  kind 
dignity,  pain-breeding  though  it  was,  with  which  they  put  me  back 
into  my  place.  I  was  a  little  boy,  fourteen  years  old.  It  was  the 
necessity  of  human  conditions  that  it  should  be  so. 

But  oh!  there  is  One,  the  "chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  alto- 
gether lovely,"  lifted  above  us  unspeakably  further  than  the  stars  are 
from  the  Avorm,  Avho  yet  says  that  he  will  divide  his  throne  Avith  us ; 
who  so  identifies  himself  Avith  us  that  he  says  he  and  Ave  are  abso- 
lutely one. 

Tlie  poorest  dusky  slaA^e  that  ever  vaguely  yearned,  and  knew 
not  Avhat  the  delight  meant  that  dawned  upon  his  developing  con- 
science ;  the  child  of  the  peasant ;  the  child  of  the  rudest  laboring 
man  in  the  street;  the  child  of  nature,  growing  into  this  divine  idea 


462  THE  PRECIOUSNESS   OF  CHRIST. 

of  Christ,  says,  "  Love  me.  Be  mine.  Notliing  is  too  much  to  give 
Thee — no  enthusiasm;  no  reaching  out  of  the  hands;  no  clasping  of 
the  heart.     All  is  thine.     I  am  thine."  • 

Christ  is  precious  as  no  human  being  can  be,  in  that  hour  in  which 
he  inspires  us  with  these  divinest  conceptions  of  life — love,  and  faith 
that  works  by  love. 

There  are  those  who  teach  us  to  redeem  ourselves  from  our  igno- 
minious nature,  and  whom  we  never  cease  to  revere.  A  young  man, 
going  out  from  the  family  into  the  army,  and  falling  under  the 
temptations  of  the  camp,  begins  to  stumble  here  and  there,  and,  com- 
ing under  the  dominion  of  cunning  and  bad  men,  he  slowly  and  gra- 
dually is  framing  his  manhood  to  the  most  ignoble  pattern;  and 
there  stands  among  the  officers  one  preeminent  for  courage  and  skill, 
and  in  influence  second  to  none,  who,  it  may  be,  draws  near,  on  some 
day,  to  chide,  to  teach,  to  persuade  ;  and  with  such  wise  counsel  that 
the  young  man  is  lifted  suddenly  out  from  the  spell,  and  abhors  him- 
self, and  shakes  oiF  his  companions,  and  comes  back  to  his  better  nature. 
And  the  young  man  says,  "As  long  as  I  live  I  will  thank  that  officer 
for  what  he  has  done  for  me."  And  the  officer  falls  in  battle,  and 
the  man  sets  up  the  memory  of  that  officer  in  his  heart  as  among  the 
minor  gods ;  and  tells  his  children,  and  they  tell  theirs,  the  story  of 
that  emancipation  which  was  wrought  in  his  moral  life  by  the  silent 
influence,  or  the  actual  utterances,  of  this  one  noble,  heroic  superior 
officer. 

One  of  the  major-generals  in  our  army  said  to  a  son  of  mine,  be- 
fore Petersburg,  in  the  midst  of  great  trial  and  much  sufiering,  and 
circumstances  tending  to  overbear  virtue,  yea,  and  almost  to  pluck 
up  courage  and  endurance,  "Are  you  not,  sir,  a  Christian?"  "I 
hope  I  am,"  was  the  reply.  "  Well,  sir,"  said  the  general,  "  in  such 
a  time  as  this  we  ought  to  know  one  another,"  and  ♦hook  him  by  the 
hand.  That  silent  word,  from  a  major-general  to  this  young  man, 
who  was  a  mere  second-lieutenant ;  that  recognition  of  their  common- 
ness and  common  Christianity — who  can  measure  the  jiower  or  the 
gratefulness  of  it?  Who  can  measure  what  hope,  and  what  gladness, 
and,  above  all,  what  sympathy  of  human  heart,  it  brought  ? 

Now,  how  many  are  there  that  are  able  to  say,  "  If  it  had  not 
been  for  my  faith  in  Jesus,  I  had  died  as  a  brute  dies"  ?  How  many 
are  there  that  have  been  brought  from  their  cup  by  the  power  of  the 
name  of  Jesus  ?  I  am  one  of  those  who  scarcely  believe  that  any 
thing  else  will  reform  a  drinking  man  but  a  loving  Saviour.  But  if 
a  man  can  say,  "  I  was  going  to  destruction,  and  I  was  brought  un- 
der the  power  of  divine  truth,  and  I  saw  my  error  and  my  sin,  and  I 
called  mightily  unto  God ;  and  he  heard  my  voice,  and  revealed  to 
me  Jesus  the  Saviour,  and  I  trusted  in  him,  and  I  have  been  strong 


THE   PBEC10USNES8   OF  CHIilST.  463 

enough  to  break  aAvay  from  evil  companions  and  temptations,  and 
by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  Avhat  I  am  " — who  can  measure  the  precious- 
ness  of  one  who  has  proved  such  a  benefactor  of  the  soul  ?  How- 
many  are  there  here  Avho  can  look  back  and  say,  "If  it  had  not  been 
for  the  hand  of  the  Saviour,  I  should  to-day  probably  have  wallowed 
in  the  slough  "  ?  How  many,  by  the  memory  of  truths  of  Christ  that 
they  have  heard  in  the  family,  have  been  saved  from  overflowing 
temptations,  and  have  been  able  to  tread  the  animal  under  their  feet  ? 
And  how  precious  is  Christ  to  one  that  realizes  this,  and  feels  that 
he  has  been  redeemed  from  the  thrall  and  the  bondage  of  the  most 
degrading  sins  by  the  power  of  divine  love  and  guardianship  !  And 
how  precious  are  they  that  stir  up  in  us  a  noble,  cleansing,  purifying 
love !  How  great  a  favor  does  one  bestow  iipon  us  who  gives  us 
faith  in  men  and  in  human  qualities !  A  man  who  does  not  believe  • 
in  virtue,  nor  in  conscience,  nor  in  love,  nor  in  disinterestedness ;  a 
man  who  does  not  believe  in  heroic  men,  nor  in  virtuous  men ;  a  man 
who  is  accustomed  to  look  at  human  life,  and  say,  "All  men  are  crea- 
tures of  circumstance,  all  are  temptable,  all  are  frangible ;  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  absolute  goodness" — such  a  man  is  a  charnel-house. 
Such  a  man  is  but  a  receptacle  of  the  dead !  And  when  one  is  tend- 
ing to  such  cynical,  and  suspicious,  and  unbelieving  states  in  life,  if 
there  come  one  that  reveals  to  him  the  realitj,  so  that  he  begins 
to  believe  in  men,  in  luminous  qualities,  in  the  reality  and  nobility 
of  sympathy  and  love,  who  can  do  him  a  greater  favor  ?  Who  can 
do  a  greater  favor  to  us  than  to  bring  life  into  the  midst  of  such 
death  as  this  ?  And  is  not  this  the  special  and  peculiar  work  of 
Christ  ?  Ai-e  we  not  the  children  of  his  love  ?  Does  he  not  give  us, 
as  it  were,  a  new  capacity  of  loving?  We  live  by  it.  It  comes  to 
be  the  atmosphere  of  the  soul.  We  come  to  love  by  the  power  of 
that  one  feeling,  which  is  more  nearly  like  the  divine  in  its  nature 
and  in  its  motives,  than  any  other  attributes  of  the  soul.  He  that 
loves  is  born  of  God.  And  it  is  this  new  life  in  the  soul  by  which 
we  love,  not  simply  our  Saviour,  but  all  that  is  good,  and  beauteous, 
and  true,  and  right,  and  noble.  And  how  much  is  he  our  benefactor 
who  wakes  in  us  this  motive  ? 

My  dear  Christian  brethren,  we  go  on  striving  after  these  states 
with  a  blind  feeling,  too  often,  that  they  come  by  reason  of  our 
faithfulness,  and  our  motives,  and  our  use  of  the  means  of  grace. 
We  do  not  enough  associate  them  with  the  power  of  the  Saviour. 
It  was  he  that  awakened  them  in  us. 

"  Oh  !"  says  the  dandelion,  "  when  spring  came,  I  made  use  of 
my  root,  and  so  came  to  blossom.  If  I  had  no*t  had  a  root,  through 
which  I  felt  the  sap  tingling,  I  should  not  have  reached  this  state." 
But  how  came  the  dandelion  to  feel  the  sap  tingling  through  its  root? 


464  THE  PBEC10USNES8   OF  CHRIST. 

What  was  it  that  unlocked  the  winter  ?  What  Avas  it  that  stimu- 
lated the  circulation  in  the  root?  Was  it  not  the  sun,  shining  in  the 
greatness  of  his  strength  ?  All  that  there  was  of  beauty  afterward 
in  the  dandelion  was  brought  out  by  God's  sun. 

Says  the  mariner,  "  It  was  I  that  made  the  voyage.  Did  not  I 
sjDread  the  sails?  Did  not  I  hold  the  helm?  Did  not  I  watch  the 
compass  ?"  Yes,  you  did  all  these  things  ;  but  who  gave  you  your 
motive  jjower?     Was  it  not  God  ? 

"  Was  it  not  my  skill,  my  industry,  my  perseverance,  that  built 
this  fortune  ?"  says  the  rich  man.  Well,  who  kept  you  alive  Avhile 
you  were  doing  it  ?  Who  swung  your  reason  in  equipoise  ?  Who 
held  you  to  such  just  equilibrium  ?  Who  held  you  to  rational  judg- 
ments while  other  men  round  about  you  rushed  to  insanity  or  dis- 
ease ?  Who  gave  you  wisdom  and  skill,  and  the  power  to  maintain 
them?  Whose  air  were  you  breathing?  Whose  summer  and  win- 
ter did  you  avail  yourself  of?  Who  created  the  forests  that  you 
plucked  down  and  framed  to  precious  uses  ?  Who  created  the  earth, 
whose  treasure  gave  itself  up  at  your  hands  ?  You  took  from  the 
loom  of  nature  all  precious  fabrics  ;  yet  wlio  wove  them  but  God  ? 

And  as  it  is  with  Aveaith,  as  it  is  witli  all  outward  things,  so, 
much  more,  is  it  Avith  the  treasure  of  the  soul.  Who  taught  you  to 
believe  ?  Who  taught  you  fiith  ?  Who  taugkt  you  the  power  of 
truth  ?  Who  gave  you  conscience,  or  ministered  to  it  ?  Who  framed 
the  statutes  upon  which  your  belief  Avent  forth  ?  Who  gave  you 
love  ?  Who  mingled  love  with  imagination  ?  Who  framed  faith, 
Avorking  by  love,  so  that  a  great  void  became  pojuilous  ?  Who 
2)ainted  pictures  through  the  imagination,  and  gave  you  a  vision  of 
heaven  that  shall  be  more  than  realized  ?  Who  filled  the  soul  Avitli 
those  fantasies  which  enrich  it  no\\%  and  shall  save  it  hereafter  ? 
Was  it  not  the  loving  Saviour,  brought  home  personally,  as  he  is  by 
sickness  and  distress ;  brought  home  as  he  is  in  closet  hours ;  brought 
home  as  lie  is  in  sweet  singing  hjnnns;  brought  home  as  he  is  to  me, 
ten  thousand  times,  Avhen  I  wander  in  the  fields  ;  brought  home  in 
hours  of  communion  Avith  God ;  brought  home  in  hours  of  temptation 
and  deliverance  ?  And  how  precious  is  that  Saviour  of  Avhom  we 
can  say,  "By  him,  and  by  him  alone,  I  am  what  I  am.  He  loved 
me ;  he  gave  himself  for  me  ;  he  has  redeemed  me  by  his  OAvn 
precious  blood;  and  he  has  made  me  a  king  and  a  j^riest  unto  God  !" 
To  them  that  believe  he  is  precious. 

Go,  ye  that  seek  pjeasure  ;  but  remember  that  you  leave  greater 
pleasures  behind  you,  in  leaving  tlie  dear  Saviour,  than  any  that  you 
can  find  among  youi*iiitimate  companions.  Go,  ye  that  seek  Avealth  ; 
but  remember  that  there  ai'e  more  riches  in  the  thoughts  of  a  just 
man,  in  the  love  of  a  true  man,  than  in  all  outward  estate.     Go,  ye 


THE  PBECIOUSNESS   OF  CHRIST.  465 

that  seek  for  the  various  amhitions  and  places  of  power  and  influence; 
but  remember  that  they  are  to  be  the  first  who  seem  least  here,  and 
that  they  are  to  be  the  last  who  seem  most.  They  who,  by  the  rattle 
of  the  drum,  or  by  the  proclamation  of  paper,  seek  the  transient  and 
evanescent,  and  call  that  enough — how  little  do  they  know  of  that 
treasure  which  is  laid  up  for  the  trusting  Christian — for  him  who  has 
made  his  peace  with  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  loves  the  Saviour 
with  a  love  that  increases  through  life,  and  that  death  itself  shall  not 
be  able  to  strangle ! 

God  grant  that  the  preciousness  of  Christ  may  become  more  and 
more  eminent  in  your  experience  who  have  tasted  at  all  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  faith.  God  grant  that  those  who  are  living  in  the  proxim- 
ity of  this  blessed  treasure,  and  this  blessed  Friend,  and  who  know 
him  not,  may  have  Christ  revealed  to  them.  And  may  he  become  as 
precious  to  your  soul  as  he  was,  perhaps,  to  the  soul  of  your  father, 
or  your  mother,  or  your  companion.  May  he  be  the  dearest  Friend 
that  you  ever  had.  May  your  father's  God  love  you,  and  keep  you, 
and  teach  you  to  Ipve  and  revere  him.  And  finally  may  you  enjoy 
him  in  his  heavenly  kingdom,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.   Aynen. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOI. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  0  most  blessed  God !  by  all  the  memory  of  a  past  ex 
perience.  Often  called,  and  often  eoming-,  we  have  never  been  turned  away  ;  and 
we  know  that  it  is  good  to  seek  thee.  In  thee  we  have  been  made  strong  in  the 
day  of  weakness.  In  thee  we  have  found  light  in  the  day  of  darkness.  In  thee 
we  have  found  remedy  when  sick,  and  consolation  when  in  distress,  and  courage 
when  in  despondency.  Thou  hast  inspired  us  with  every  grace  and  virtue  which 
we  possess.  Thou  hast  led  us  through  a  thousand  scenes  of  experience,  and  never 
once  hast  betrayed  us.  All  thy  words,  many  as  they  are,  and  promising  great 
things,  transcending  all  other  promises  known  among  men,  are  yea  and  amen ; 
and  none  can  say  that  he  has  come  unto  thee,  and  been  cast  out ;  and  none  shall 
ever  say  it.  Blessed  be  thy  name,  thou  faithful  God — thou  loving  Saviour — thou 
teaching  and  comforting  Spirit !  We  draw  near  to  thee,  to-night,  with  confession 
of  sin.  Yet,  thou  knowest  it  better  than  we.  We  know  our  unbelief;  we  know 
the  hardness  of  our  hearts ;  we  know  our  vagrancy  and  pride ;  we  know  how 
easily  we  are  tempted  through  the  senses  ;  we  know  how  inert  and  self-indulgent 
we  are  prone  to  become  ;  we  know  that  we  lie  under  thy  hand  of  discipline  to 
complain  and  to  murmur,  and  in  the  midst  of  prosperity  to  forget  thee,  and  to 
consider  that  prosperity  as  the  work  of  our  own  wisdom  and  skill.  We  confess 
all  the  things  in  which  Ave  are  imperfect  and  rude,  or  sinful.  We  confess  the 
wrong  that  we  do  knowing  that  we  do  it,  and  the  courses  that  we  pursue  though 
we  are  warned  and  admonished.  If  thou  wert  to  treat  us  strictly  according  to  our 
desert,  we  could  not  stand  for  a  moment.  It  is  because  thy  court  is  the  royalty 
of  love,  it  ia  because  thou  art  a  parent,  it  is  because  thou  dost  not  sit  as  a  judge^ 


466  THE  PRECIOUSNESS   OF  CHRIST. 

administering  with  inflexible  law,  it  is  because  tbou  wilt  have  mercy  on  wbom 
tbou  wilt  liave  mercy,  it  is  because  tliou  liast  liberty  of  heart  to  do  the  things 
which  please  thee,  that  we  have  hope. 

O  thou  great  Father  of  all !  we  draw  near  to  thee  as  disobedient  children,  to 
confess  our  wrong,  and  mourn  over  it,  and  pray  for  deliverance  from  it.  We  be 
seech  of  thee  that  we  may  live  worthy  of  our  relationship  to  thee.  We  are  thy 
sons.  We  are  adopted  into  thy  family.  We  are  much  loved,  and  much  forgiven. 
We  are  borne  with,  and  helped,  every  day,  and  on  every  side.  Grant  that  every 
feeling  of  honor  and  gratitude  and  love  may  conspire  to  prevent  our  receiving  all 
thy  mercies,  so  many,  and  so  precious,  and  returning  nothing  but  disobedience. 

Forgive  the  past,  and  inspire  the  future.  Grant  that  we  may  never  be  discou- 
raged. If  there  be  any  that  have  begun  to  walk  the  royal  way  of  life,  and  are 
perplexed  and  hindered,  and  see  little  of  growth  in  themselves,  still  let  them  go 
forward.  Grant  that  none  may  look  back,  and  count  themselves,  unworthy  of 
eternal  life.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  quicken  the  conscience  of  every  one. 
Give  a  new  and  deeper  sense  of  guiltiness.  And  grant  that  men  who  are  named 
of  thee  may  judge  of  their  conduct  and  their  character,  not  by  human  laws,  but 
by  the  higher  law  of  God.  And  so,  by  that  spiritual  and  inward  measure,  may 
we  measure  their  thoughts  and  their  feelings,  and  say,  from  day  to  day,  "  Against 
thee  and  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight."  Thus  we 
beseech  of  thee  tbat  tbou  wilt  raise  us  step  by  step  above  temptation,  until  at  last 
we  are  prepared  for  that  higher  land  where  they  sin  no  more,  and  are  tempted  no 
more,  and  rejoice  together  forever. 

Bless  the  word  that  shall  be  spoken  to-night.  Bless  the  servants  of  thy  sanc- 
tuary here.  May  we  take  with  us  the  spirit  of  Sunday  into  the  week.  May  we 
be  able  to  praise  the  Lord.  While  we  are  diligent  in  our  business,  may  we  know 
how  still  to  "be  fervent  in  spirit.  May  we  know  how  silently  to  teach  men.  And 
grant  that  so  long  as  we  live,  we  may  be  willing  and  abundant  laborers  in  thy 
cause. 

And  when  thou  shalt  have  fulfilled  thy  will  in  us,  and  our  earthly  career  is 
over,  may  we  then  begin  that  glorious  career  in  the  heavenly  land,  where  we  will 
praise  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit.    Amen. 


PRAYER    AFTER    THE    SERMON. 

Otm  Father,  wilt  thou  bless  the  word  of  truth  spoken,  and  grant  that  it  may 
come  home  to  the  hearts  of  those  that  have  heard  it  vdth  eflicacious  power.  We 
thank  thee  for  the  revelation  of  thyself,  and  for  all  thy  helpfulness  to  us.  We 
thank  thee  for  the  inspirations  which  we- have  had  in  times  past ;  for  the  promises 
which  stretch  out  over  the  future,  multitudinous — endless. 

Thou,  0  Lord  Jesus  !  art  the  chief  amortg  ten  thousand,  altogether  lovely.  We 
follow  thee.  We  adore  thee.  '  Thou  art  precious  now,  and  shalt  be  yet  more  pre- 
cious. And  living  or  dying  we  are  thine.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  may  be 
participators  in  this  thy  treasure.  May  those  whom  we  love,  love  thee.  Bound 
together  by  these  cords  and  ties,  may  we  walk  together  along  the  same  pilgrim 
road,  that  we  may  sit  down  together  in  the  kingdom  of  our  dear  Lord.  We  ask 
it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


Date  Due 

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